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2002-06-24 - 1:51 a.m.

I'm a little fried today. Most of it is cause I'm a girl and I have lovely hormonal fluctuations, and some of it is environmental. I cried eight times today, and screamed at Matt somewhere around 5. But most of the crying was during "Lilo and Stitch" which was a good movie. Disney did a great job. Well, "Lilo and Stitch" was about family, and loving people even though they are difficult, and those themes make me weepy in most cases. I outright bawled at this movie. So did Jenn. She's hormonal too. Its very bad to have us BOTH feeling yucky. Lots of other stuff went on too, and basically I stomped out of the house to walk to the Pride convenience store in the pouring rain because I was so dammned pissed off. It's Matt's birthday, and he's just behaving abominably. He won't let me do anything for him, and the two things that he wanted to do, he couldn't do, and it was my fault. I made him leave Jenn and PJ's, because 1) my eyeballs were burning from all the dry air from all the airconditioners, 2) because Jenn was in a sad mood and just wanted all the guests gone so she could have her house back, and 3) because Amber was still there hanging out with the guy who is friends with them, and I didn't want to watch them become a trainwreck, and I didn't want to help Amber dye her hair. I dyed Matt's and mine on Friday, and the bickering was mighty. I didn't care to go back there again. So Matt was in a bad mood for the rest of the day because he wanted to hang out, and I didn't want to. I was just trying to save him from getting his feelings hurt because I could tell Jenn wanted to kick us out, which is something I not only undertand completely, but at that time, I agreed with her. I wanted to go home. But Matt has a hard time comprehending these things. He can be frighteningly singleminded some times.

Then we fought about dinner. All he wanted was a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. No, no, I don't need to make him anything. No, I already made him a cake. No, just a sandwich. No, he's not even hungry really....and so on and so forth. He was just so determined to feel sorry for himself that I started screaming. So we went home, and I went to make him his STUPID sandwich and....we were out of fucking peanut butter. And he just got this face on, which is what my dad always used to say about me and my sister. "You've got that face on. Stop it." and this is what makes me understand getting my face slapped so often as a kid. Cuz damn. Looking fresh is a slapping offense, but at that moment, Matt looking sullen was enough to make me want to yank my hair out by the roots and burn esoteric sayings into my thighs.

Anyway, Matt was mad because apparently I ate all the peanut butter on purpose and hid this fact from him so that he couldn't have the ONE THING he wanted to eat on his birthday. So I said, "O MY FUCKING GOD!" and went to the convenience store, bought a pack of forbidden cigarettes (I was really THAT mad) and went over to the aisle that seemed most likely to have peanut butter, given that it had 8 jars of jelly, in two separate flavors, and one jar of fluff. No peanut butter. I almost cried again. So I called Matt and got cheese instead to make grilled cheese, smoked my one cigarette (it was fucking gross, too) and then walked back home in a downpour. Things are doing much better right now.

Today has been such crap. My problem is, and Matt pointed this out, that my birthdays are always such crap that I tried too hard to make his better. And my rampaging lack of emotional control has made today a trainwreck. That's my word of the day, my feeling of the day. Train-wreck. I'm reading Tam Lin, and it is written in a truly disturbing style that I can't explain, but makes me feel spacy and removed. I get annoyed at the attitudes toward marijuana in that book - it isn't like that. But whatever. I have to wonder about the birth control pills too.

I'm going to end this now. I have another one of my fabulous headaches (becoming almost a daily occurence - either my blood pressure is so high that the next time some one startles me at work I'll die, or...I have a brain tumor) and I'm going to go cuddle my boy apologetically. Maybe I'll get laid. There's nothing so broken with me that sex won't fix. Ain't that the goddamn truth...on so many levels.

 

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