| I guess I'm not happy right now because I think i pissed Payden off. Or maybe he just fell asleep. All I know is that when I call his phone I don't hear him say "Hey you!" all excited and cheery-like. :/
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| It took me million phone calls and a million different phone numbers to get a physicians bill removed from my credit.
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I love college, but I hate these exam-test-report-due vortexes. I didn't realize it was my birthday until my little sister woke me up and sang "Happy Birthday."
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| College defies routine.
I'm figuring out how to balance everything in proportion.
I just can't figure out where my personal relationships are leading me.
I hope this semester brings me closer to Payden.
I guess that is all I can ask for.
I wouldn't care if that meant starving.
Burning, or drowning, bleeding... who cares? Nothing at the moment matters as much as how much it hurts to miss him.
Every time I catch the clock just right, every time I see a dandelion, a lady bug, a burning hunk of space crap...
The only thing I wish is for the two of us to work out.
I live for the moments we spend laughing at ourselves.
I live for no one else.
Just thought I'd mention the newest of the new: I had Payden cut off my hair while he was in Florida last weekend. He took a buzzer to it, with the biggest attachment on, so now my hair is just-over-an-inch long. I fucking love it. Mom thinks I look butch. Not that I care, because I obviously suck dick. It just pisses me off that she can be as cut-throat as she pleases but the minute I call her a bitch to her face she goes hysterical. Irrationality at its best. Pure lack of communication skills at its worst.
I got asked "why" a lot yesterday. They will never understand. But Payden does. He knows as well as I do how sick I am of labels. I'm puerto-rican so I'm supposed to be ghetto as fuck and three times pregnant. I'm a woman so I belong in the kitchen. I was raised catholic so sex is taboo. I'm a calculus kid so I'm supposed to be awkward and meager. Shave your legs, straighten your hair, be everything you hate, buy our products, eat our media, live our ideal...
Fuck that. No hair, pierced tits, neon pants, cigarette between my lips, 3.769 GPA, post-doc after fucking post-doc; I'll reshape your stereotype one day at a time. I'll prove to you a woman doesn't have to be a mommy. I'll Dr. Vanessa Rivera before I ever put on heels and nylons. |
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