5.31.2011

Game Over

...It's been fun. Childish, yes...but so much fun.

It was a game to see if I could make you insane... I'm not sure that it was me, so much, or if you just are... either is a great possibility. It was funny because people "egged it on", and went along with it.  (You know how little kids are...when they are being mean to people...if they have other kids laughing and agreeing with them, they continue to do it... It's amazing how much stuff from childhood carries over throughout adulthood...)

I pretended to be your friend. I pretended to like you. I did it...partially out of respect for him (you know...my not being a bitch)...partially, because I knew you didn't like me...but somehow, you wouldn't be mean unless I was... I dunno. (All part of the fun & games.) Perhaps we are (scarily) more alike than it might first seem.

That was being two faced. Pretending.

Recently, I decided I wouldn't pretend anymore. I couldn't pretend anymore. So...I was real...-ish. However, the tension was so thick, you could have cut it with a knife. It made things difficult for everyone. So, I figured I could tone it down...just a little.

I don't like you. I never really have. I don't like what you are doing to my friend. He's not the same person...you know...when you're around and when you're not. I worry about him. That's my "mama cat syndrome".

However, it's not my place... if he says he's happy with things the way they are... then all that should matter is that he says he's happy. He's a good kid and I love him, so I suppose I have to respect that and all that it implies. I still don't like you.

Game over.

"Being nice to someone you
don't like is not being two-faced.
It's called being a grown up."

5.28.2011

I have a song...

My cupcakes bring all the boys to the yard.
Damn right, they're better than yours.
I could teach you....but I'd have to charge.

*takes a bow*

I'd like to thank my cousin for "re-writing" that song for me... I dedicate it...to the girl who wants to be me. :)

5.19.2011

Lurking in the shadows

I know you're out there. I can see you. You aren't very sneaky, child.

Ya know...I've never rarely made it a point to try and hide anything I put online. I try not to make it readily available to people that I don't want seeing it...but that's just a matter of not advertising it. If there is anything that is a secret, I tend to keep it off of the Internet. That's the only smart thing to do...right?

Granted...I do have a few blogs that are completely hidden...the only way you can get to them is if you have the URL...but those aren't secret...just...uh...sensitive... And I'm pretty sure there are only two people (possibly...most likely only one)...that have the links to those.

Anyway...It bother's me that people that I do not like are so interested in my life. Some people that I've made a point of taking out of my life...constantly put themselves in it... "behind the scenes". They read my blog or follow my twitter, and report what they find in either, to other people in my life. These "other" people could easily have access to these things, if they so wished...but they obviously aren't interested...until you bring it up...if even then.

I always suspected that certain people were following along in my nonsensical stories of life...and one day, I got a text from my ex asking me about something that he should have technically known nothing about. Not that it was a secret...just that he should have had no way of knowing about it. And still...he mentions things that I talk about in my blog or on twitter... Of course, at this point, I'm used to it...and it's no longer a surprise... I'm just confused.

Why are you trying so hard to be in my "business"?

Shit...that wasn't even really the point of this post...not technically...

There's someone else... who's checking my stuff religiously... and it was funny at first... but now it annoys me... to no end.  Yet, there's no way to stop it because they already have the link... and they are already, obviously, addicted to me.

Ugh...

I can't help it because I'm awesome, I guess...