For the first time in at least a week, I didn’t wake up in a pool of my own sweat. What a concept! The dryness was much appreciated.
Yesterday’s rainy weather kept me inside all day, so I was happy to lie out by the pool as soon as I woke up. I threw on my Speedo, and stayed outside from about 10 a.m. until 4 p.m., by which point I had officially turned into a lobster. I am so red. I got to go swimming, though! Considering I hadn’t submerged my foot or body in water in almost two months, my time in the pool was a real highlight for me.
Of course, if something can go wrong, it will. I was bitten by a horsefly right on my injured toe. It immediately started to sting, and my toe swelled to double its size within five minutes. I went straight to Mom for help. She had a bad allergic reaction to the same type of bite a few weeks ago, and ended up in the hospital because of it. Doctor Mom threw some Benadryl down my throat, and gave me some medicated cream for my toe. Mom also made us both a batch of piña coladas. After that, I went back outside and continued to cook my skin.
Following some chips, guacamole, and more drinks, I was ready to pass out. I don’t think the piña coladas mixed well with my Benadryl. I stumbled upstairs, and fell asleep on my bed for a couple of hours.
The tan line from my Speedo is absolutely ridiculous. It looks like one of those awful porn tans, but I secretly love it. That being said, it was slightly nerve-wracking for me to be in a Speedo around my parents all day. I’m trying to let go of my insecurities, though. Do what I want, without worrying what others might think. If I can’t swear a Speedo in front of my parents and in the privacy of Casa Z, I don’t stand much of a chance in the real world.
I had dinner while watching one of my favorite movies, Erin Brockovich. Once Julia Roberts had saved the town of Hinkley, Mom and Dad drove me downtown. Right before we left the house, Dad blurted out of nowhere that he wanted to buy me a new laptop. I’m not going to lie. I really do want one. My MacBook has been on its last leg for quite a while, and both my parents know it. Apple’s products don’t come cheap, though. A new MacBook would be very expensive.
I’m hesitant to accept Dad’s (very generous) offer. If he ends up buying me a laptop, I know that the guilt I will endure as a result will reach maximum levels. I’m so appreciative of the gesture, but it makes me feel really guilty knowing that my parents aren’t making much money these days. A new MacBook would be so nice, though.
I am so grateful for everything my parents do for me. Yet, an incessant guilty conscience remains. I don’t know why. That’s why I don’t like Mom making food for me, or doing my laundry. When we argue about it, Mom maintains the stance that those types of gestures don’t bother her. A part of me cannot wrap my mind around someone actually wanting to do those things for someone else, though.
I see the way Mom is with Dad – constantly picking up his plates, fishing his used teabags out of the sink, washing his biking stuff – and it drives me insane. I don’t want Mom to do any of that for me. Mom isn’t my slave. I don’t even like her picking up an empty water cup in my room. Yet, Mom still manages to find a way to serve me. Am I always going to feel this guilt? Am I the only one? I would be willing to bet that I am. It seems as though Dad and Phillip are more than happy to have Mom wait hand and foot on them. It all makes me extremely uncomfortable.
Another thing happened before I left Casa Z. I sent Logan a message. Today was his birthday. I’ve been thinking about Logan a lot lately – obsessively lurking his Instagram profile, despite an extended lack of activity. I’m not as upset about things as I was before, but I think that’s because I’ve blocked a lot of it out of my mind. The other night, I was looking at pictures from when we were together. I miss Logan. I miss the feeling he gave me.
Logan fucked me over so bad, though. If I can admit that, then why did I want to send Logan a message today? Especially when I am head over heels for this PW guy? I sent the message because it was my only shot. My last shot, if you will. My final opportunity at seeing if there was anything left to salvage. Any sliver of a conversation or relationship that I might be able to resurrect. A birthday message was an easy icebreaker. A way for me to show that, not only was I thinking about Logan, but that I cared enough about him to remember the day he was born.
Logan responded to my message. He thanked me by name, and said I had a good memory. That was it. I replied with a smiley face. I don’t think I’ll ever hear from Logan again. That’s okay, though. I gave it a go. It didn’t result in anything, but at least I tried.
I’ll never know why Logan treated me the way he did. A part of me is always going to wonder why. Perhaps with time, I will learn to let go of it all. Looking back, I think I’ve done a good job with moving on from where I was with this situation just a couple of months ago. It’s a step in the right direction. If anything, that birthday message from me ended things on a good note. It sucks. Oh, well.
Is my situation with Logan a parallel to the Bryan situation? It was actually Bryan’s birthday on Thursday. I sent him a happy birthday message as well, to which Bryan replied with a thank-you. I never followed up on Bryan’s response. My message wasn’t meant to be an invitation to converse. Maybe I was wrong to send it. But, if someone sent that kind of message to me, it would mean a lot. At least with Bryan, I am happy that I ended things properly. It took me a while, but I know there was good closure. I expressed why I felt the way I did, and we were able to end things amicably.
If only I could say that much for Logan. I still don’t understand how someone could go from Logan’s level of intimacy and bonding, to absolutely nothing. Logan just dropped off the face of the earth. When I confronted him with how I felt about his actions, Logan admitted that there was a problem, and that he wanted to discuss it. Logan never followed up on that admission, though. I never got that closure. Fucking coward.
Alright. Let’s not delve into this any further. We are making our peace, and moving on. Namaste, bitch.
Mom and Dad drove me to the Witch Cave. I unpacked, exercised, and then trimmed all of my body hair in the shower. Probably not the best idea to do take a shaver to your body when you can barely touch your singed skin, but I needed to shed that layer of hair. Remember: if you can’t tone it, tan it. And if you can’t tan it, trim it.
Despite PW lurking my Snapchat posts, I haven’t heard a peep from him since Friday afternoon. I guess that means he’s still around. Is PW going to message me, though? Like, he didn’t even confirm my second date offer for Tuesday. I’m not really sure where we stand on that. Odd. Especially because he saw Phillip two nights in a row this weekend.
Do these kids think that Instagram posts and Snapchat stories are proper forms of communication? Logan did this, too. Social media posts are not a way to have a proper conversation with someone! It drives me insane. Call me. Text me. I’d even accept a Facebook message, or a direct message on Instagram. However, saying, “I saw your Snap,” or, “I saw your Insta,” means nothing to me. That’s not my real life. A social media post is not a way to truly get to know somebody. Even when I had that recent argument with RX, he then went and liked some of my Instagram posts the next day. What the fuck? Was that RX’s way of “mending” things? I don’t understand what was going through his head when he did that. RX has actually liked a lot of my posts since then, but I haven’t heard a word from him. What the fuck is 2016? Seriously!
Regardless of all this tomfoolery, I am really looking forward to seeing PW again this week. Maybe we can even do a couple of dates, as I have that Ghostbusters advanced screening that I could take him to as well. PW is such a dreamboat. What is a dreamboat, anyway? I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. PW is a total babe. I look at pictures of him all day, every day. He is so handsome. What really surprised me was when PW made me laugh. Like, actually laugh! And he is tall! Like, actually tall! And smart! Man, I feel like I hit the jackpot with this one. I want to make out with PW!
Okay. It’s bedtime. We are moving on. I have no doubt that this week at work will bring some form of drama, so I better be rested for it. Love ya much.
I’m ending this journal entry off with a quote from Erin Brockovich, which is something I have unfortunately experienced in many relationships. The nice ones aren’t always so nice. Should I be skeptic of PW? I don’t want to be. I want to be positive. I don’t want to let the failures and heartaches of my past negatively shape something that is new and so full of potential.
“Don’t be too nice to me.”
“It makes me nervous.”
— “Erin Brockovich”