I feel like my thoughts are too scattered for an actual post, so I’m opting for what many of you have done in the past week and bulleting. (Read: I’m lazy)

  • I went out to the local bar with Bri and Mer last night. It wasn’t anything crazy, and I ended up telling them I had to get to bed earlyish for work in the morning. I got back by eleven, and was in bed with my computer beside me. Mer messages me, and is having an utter breakdown. She’s moving across the country on Friday (I can’t even bear to think about that at all without coming close to tearing up), but she also had a huge falling out with her quasi-boy. This guy was her first kiss, the only guy she’s ever loved. For six years they’ve had this relationship where they know they’re supposed to be together, but distance and schedules make it fairly impossible. Earlier this summer at her graduation party (the one with the sharks!) she got really drunk and happend to see her boy kissing her roomate. She was livid, kicked him out of her house, and made him drive the two hours back home at two in the morning. He never apologized, never explained himself. Mer has spent all summer still talking to him up until a month ago. He was supposed to drive out with her across the country, but then stopped responding to all calls. For over a month he ignored her. Until yesterday. When he called her back, screamed at her, refused to talk about the fact that he kissed her roommate. So Mer messages me at twelve, asks me to come over. I Lindsay-Lohaned over to her house (minus the booze and drugs, plus the speeding in suburbia), found her crying on her doorstep. I have known Mer since eighth grade when I moved to this town and was sat alphabetically next to her in homeroom. We’ve been close friends since, had our ups and downs and fights and sleepovers. And never once have I seen this girl cry. Here she is, hugging me and crying. I spent the next two hours with her, sitting in the park and going over everything that we could until she thought that she could get to sleep. The thing is, I don’t even know what to tell her on it. I’m usually the go-to friend for advice, but on this I don’t even know what to say. The good thing is, I rushed home from work today and ordered flowers to be delivered to her new house on Saturday when she moves in. Hopefully that will help get her mind off of the jerk. 
  • At work this morning, my coworker (the lovely little sixty-five year old avid church-going woman) was asking me deets about myself. She asked me about whether or not I had a boyfriend because of drama with another coworker (will be covered in another bullet). I told her that I wasn’t really seeing someone, and then sort of sighed. PK and I have been exchanging weird emails and the occassional message to each other, both trying to figure out what is wrong with us. I mean, aside from him being a douche bag. So I tried as best as I could to explain the PK situation, about him being unable to settle and wanting me when he can’t have me, but then freaking out about committment when we get together. And also the bit about him saying he was unable to visit me on a thirty dollar train ticket when he just went out and bought an Iphone. Her response was this: “You know honey, my first husband was somewhat similar, and he was a man. What can I say? We ended up getting divorced. I didn’t make the same mistakes on my second marriage- I married a gay man.” That’s right. Girl has a thing for going to gay bars, met a man there, became best friends with him, then married him despite the fact that she fully acknowledged that he was gay and, um, not that into her.
  • The drama with the coworker. I am sort of into this guy I met at work, and we went to see a movie together the other day after we got off our shift. And I had a freakin’ great time. But I kept it clear that I wasn’t ready to date, that things are complicated, that I’m a headcase. In reality, I know that if I start getting into this guy, PK will suddenly want me again. It’s happened before- when I dated his best friend (well, I guess that’s obvious) , The Coach, Jordan, Habibi, Kyle…. every time I would start seeing someone new, PK would have his breakdown and tell me that he wants to be with me. He’d start talking about the future, about bookcases covered with books and talking about kids. And I know in my head, regardless of how much of an ass he is, I will compare my current guy to him. Crap.
  • I am by no means a fan of Dave Mathews. I guess I just never got into him at all, and actually get really annoyed by his music. But my brother and Craig asked me to come along to meet up with some of our mutual friends over at the lot and I figured I’d go. Holy crrrrrap. Anyone else been to one of those? I mean, I’ve heard people talk about them before and always having the craziest stories out of them, but seriously? In the span of two hours I was offered so many drugs, hit on, had a guy grab at me, watched a guy try to pee on my car, watched the same guy pee himself while bonging a beer, and saw about three thousand girls in mini jean skirts, tank tops, and dyed blonde hair.
  • I was fairly drunk when I left the lot to go meet up with my friend Mandy to go to the Riversharks game. They’re the minor league team out here, and you can get seats for six bucks and sit behind home plate. Mandy called me as I was running out of the parking lot, and I happened to see her car in traffic sitting on MLK Boulevard. In Camden. So I ran over and threw myself drunkenly into the backseat, and tried not to act so drunk when I realized that her seventh grade brother was in the front seat. He was so sassy the entire night, I loved him. At one point I cursed in front of him, then apologized. He goes “It’s ok, I’ve seen Happy Gilmore. It’s all good!” The child is precious, minus the fact that the devil mocked me all night for being drunk. We met up with a bunch of friends there and had a great time heckling the batters and then watching them try to ignore us (seriously! so! close! I could have spit on them). The little brother got up to go to the bathroom some time around the sixth inning, and we didn’t really get worried until about ten minutes later when he still wasn’t back. When he finally did come back, he was crying so hard that he couldn’t get his story out. We finally got out “bathroom” and “pulled my pants down” before Mandy fled up the stairs with him. I followed, then hugged him and tried to calm him down and get the full story out. Another younger boy approached me and was able to tell me the whole story as a bystander. He said that there was a mentally challenged boy in the bathroom who was grabbing other boys, forcing them into the back stall and pushing them against the wall. He would them make them put their hands above their heads while he “patted” them down, finally pulling their pants down. I freaked. I left the little brother with Mandy again and happened to run into the mentally challenged kid as he was trying to walk out of the bathroom. I know how to calm down my cousin, so I told him my name, told him I was going to help him find his mom. And then he slapped me. At this point, (and I apologize in advance for what I am about to say), I pretty much threatened to kill him. Not seriously, but I was pretty angry. Here was this completely angry, troubled boy walking around without his parents and assaulting boys in the bathroom. I followed him as he was walking around the stadium, finally running towards a woman in all white. For a second I remembered those pictures on the Discovery Channel of what mother animals look like when their children are threatened. She screamed at me for scaring her son… excuse me? Who in their right mind would allow their son- realizing the kind of behavior he presents- to go walking around a crowded place by himself? I walked away, and on the way back to my seats ran into another flustered mother. Her son had been another boy whose pants had been pulled down in the bathroom. I told her everything that had happened, and watched as she marched over to the mother, guns blazing. I figured it best to go back to my friends, where the little brother was still really upset. We spent the rest of the game cheering him up- I even tried to convince him to help me find a baseball player boyfriend, to no avail. Though I must say, he did scream “Hey number 11! Caitlyn is single!” while pointing at me.
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