I'm advertisement free over at the UK edition of AOL.
Come visit Marissa's New Journal
I've also got a new screen name I'm trying out, but am keeping this one for a short period of adjustment just in case I don't like change and get uncomfortable.
Egg, it's been fun. <3
meloncholy | Aimee Mann
Okay, so here's my take this whole situation.
Apparently since my updates have been far and few these last weeks, I haven't noticed the oversized banners flashing and running amok on top of my journal's head. But the greedy AOL execs using my collection of thoughts as a form of advertisement has been brought to my attention through some of my favorite journals that were formerly located in our close-knit little community. These journals packed up their thoughts and words and what was left of their hope and moved on to different non-AOL journaling services. I will be doing the same.
I will leave my new address when I get there and settled in.
Am I sad to leave this journal behind? The one I wrote in for 2 years and 2 days?
Absolutely.
But this just shows me that it's time for a little change.
nothingness | Aimee Mann Invisible Ink
I feel like updating but I don't feel like I have much to say.
I went to the movies last night with my friend Megan to see "Derailed." Let me just say, the previews were totally misleading. The movie was horrifying. P.S. Clive Owen = hawt.
Has anyone else caught the inane one-word pseudonym for Jennifer Aniston and Vince Vaughn and thier coupling? Grab a hose, folks, 'cause Vaughniston is heating up! As if Bennifer wasn't bad enough. What's next? Brangelina?
Ree-diculous.
I've been listening to Aimee Mann on a loop. I love her voice. I love the words. Her music and lyrics have made me miss writing poetry. I don't know why I haven't written in so long. Lack of inspiration, I suppose. And laziness.
I've found that doing stuff interrupts my laziness.
And as of late, I find myself becoming more and more of a Depresserella. I don't like it. I don't know if it's because I'm just bored with everything or if I'm still upset about John or if I've been thinking too much. Nothing feels worth it.
And let's face it. Nobody likes a Debbie Downer. I'm the fictitious cheese that stands alone. So on top of just feeling all-around morose, I feel a heavy sort of shame, too, toward my friends who have to listen to me and to my family, who have to live with me.
I'm not sure of what to do, really. What other options are there aside from medicine and therapy? My mom told me to go out for a walk and boost my seretonin levels. I think my seretonin level has been a steady 0 since the age of 5.
I'm pretty positive that nobody wants to date someone who is a complete basketcase. (what exactly is the functional purpose of a basket case? is there such a thing?)
I'm also quite sure that none of you want to read someone's depressing blog, either.
I have made the conscious decision that one day, when someone asks me how I'm doing, I would love to say "can't complain," and actually mean it.
Work has been stressful. It's Christmas time already there, so I've already had my fair share of potted silk poinsettas and light-up snowmen with high speed blinker setting. I've also been butting heads with one of my coworkers that I hate. My boss and I, however, totally bonded recently and she told me what a great worker I was. It made me giggle like a schoolgirl again.
In speaking of school,I would like to proudly announce that I have transferred to a college that I will start full-time at in January! I am quite excited.
Okay. This is the time in the morning where I have to talk myself out of bed. "Come on, Marissa. You can do it. There's a whole day ahead of me. And hopefully somewhere in that day there's a cup of coffee with your name on it..."
sad | Aimee Mann
So I haven't been feeling chatty lately. That Seasonal Affective Whatever may have kicked in. And it's kicking my butt.
I can honestly say, at this juncture, I am very unhappy. (suprise!) It bothers me to the very core that this is happening again. And the fact that I know I'm on the verge of a possible depression is enough for me to scream.
John and I are over. As quickly as it began...it's done. I'm not sure if it's over forever over, but for now it is.
The whole thing, while it lasted, seemed like a tease. How nice it was to be with somebody again. I'm sad it's over and I'm reallllllly going to miss him. (you can tell by the multiple lllll's that I will miss him allllllllot.)
I've been sleeping on this old-but-new-to-me antique couch I bought last week. And in honor of my ex-boyfriend's engagement to the girl he broke up with me for, I bought a nice TV to go with it.
Yep. You read that right. The boy I was sulking over when I started this journal two years ago is engaged. To a girl my age.
"The future bride has a degree in dance and exercise physiology. The couple resides in Albany."
HOW NICE FOR THEM!
God oh God am I bitter about this. My stomach is all in knots.
And inevitably I've began to question my self-worth because of it.
Picture it: Breakfast this morning with Anthony. I calmly sit at our table and open the paper to the Wedding Announcements.
Me: Ready for this?
Anthony's always ready for this.
I slide it over to his side of the table. I can see the happy couple freaking glowing from behind my sunglasses. I vomit a little bit in my mouth.
Anthony: So? He's engaged. Big deal.
Me: Big deal!? It is a big deal! She's my age! I want to get married!
Anthony: You don't want to get married.
Me: So? It'd be nice to be asked! It's not like John would marry me. Of course he was engaged before...
Anthony: Why are you even talking about this? Why do you want every guy to marry you?
Me: I don't want every guy to marry me. I just want one that would like to. I don't think I'd be bad tobe married to. I'm fun. (getting teary-eyed)
Anthony: You're so unrealistic. Not every guy is going to be the one.
Me: Why not? Why is everyone getting married and having babies? And I have a couch and no one to share it with. Besides, I never said I wanted to marry him.
Anthony: Bullshit! I can remember countless times you said you'd move to Albany with him and marry him. AND! I specifically remember an occasion when you said you would get a tattoo of his initials on your body!
Me: Did not!
Anthony: Did so! Shut down!
Me: I hate myself.
Anthony: Why? Because he's getting married? He's not even good looking! His head is HUGE, Mar. You can do better.
Me: All of the relationships I have been in that haven't worked out all had the common denominator of me. Maybe there's something wrong with me.
Anthony: Um, maybe there's something wrong with all of them. Don't blame it on yourself, sometimes things don't work out.
Me: Things never work out.
Anthony: Look at who you've dated! That boy when you were 13...
Me: We were 15 and very much in love! We dated for 2 years!
Anthony: Well whatever. And then you dated (name withheld to protect the gayness) and you don't ever have to worry about him getting engaged since it's illegal in the USA anyway. And now John...
Me: Don't forget Mario.
Anthony: You guys were never official.
Me: True. But I did really think he was the one.
Anthony: I've known you for a long time and you always felt someone was the one.
Me: That's because I want someone to be the one.
Anthony: Why?
Me: Because...it'd be nice. Not to have to do everything alone.
Anthony: You idealize these guys into being people they're not. Maybe Mario was great when you first met him but he certainly wasn't like that at the end. You wanted him to be that same person, but he never was.
Me: (head bowed in shame) Guilty as charged.
Anthony: And John. Please, don't waste your time. You're never going to be what he wants you to be.
Me: I know.
Anthony: So why feel bad about it?
Me: Because I'm alone again.
_________________________________________________
....and very unhappy with everything. Namely myself. I'm not sure I'm on the right track anymore. I need to reassess.
That's where I'll be.
Don't forget to congratulate the happy stinking couple. I hope you and your big head have a nice life filled with aerobics and jazzercise.
