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Friday, February 13, 2009

I'm not blogging about you...

The past few days have been spent crying and eating chocolate pastries. Pathetic, but delicious.

Last night I got home from work and was naturally very hungry. I thought that I had and Amy's frozen something in my freezer, but I was wrong, so I ordered pizza. Not just any pizza, my favorite pizza. Greek pizza WITHOUT black olives from Bottom's Up. I like black olives, just not on pizza - I have a thing about combining different textures. They told me it would be about thirty minutes and asked if I could meet the driver outside as they were very busy. I agreed, and when he arrived I quickly signed the receipt and went up to my room. Upon opening the pizza I started crying, they had included black olives. This really is nothing to cry about, and I considered picking all the olives off, but... have you ever tried picking olives off anything? It's difficult. So, I pulled myself together and called them back and asked if something could be done. I felt bad about this, but I had had such an awful day, and wanted what I wanted. The manager said he would have another pizza sent over and that it would arrive in about thirty minutes. I suppose I didn't say anything because he asked, "Ma'am, are you there? Is thirty minutes okay?" Yeah. "Are you okay?" I started crying again. I mean it really is ridiculous, right? I tried telling him that I was fine, but he didn't believe me, obviously I wasn't, so he offered to throw in a six pack, which would have been lovely if I didn't live in the dorms, so when I said no, he insisted that something else could be done. So, I got a brownie sundae. Score! The pizza man heard me cry, on the phone. He heard me explain what an awful day I had, and was genuinely interested. It's easy to fall into thinking that people really don't care about others, but then someone like Ricky manages to changes that and show some humanity.

Now, I would appreciate it if someone would explain to me why boys are so awful, always trying to do the practical or logical thing. It seems to me that feelings have never allowed me to do anything practical or logical. Though I have learned that more is accomplished if I keep my mouth shut than go off. And I think that boys in general are fairly lucky that I am not the hitting kind of girl.

Today was not any different than the past couple of days, and this whole "friends" thing is silly. There comes a point where being friends, at least proper friends isn't possible. This becomes particularly difficult if two people are stubborn. I am a feeling person, and even if I don't like my feelings, I deal and they either go away or they don't.

I have been waiting for these ones to go away, they haven't. I'm pissed.

But at least when I'm pissed I can come home to FRESH FLOWERS!

Yesterday when I got back from class, Jessica had left a small bouquet of Spider Chrysanthemums and a note. Have I mentioned that I have the best roommate ever? Because I do. I don't think she realizes how happy that made me yesterday.

And today after an outing that was less than stellar I came in and checked my mailbox and in it was a card from my daddy and a package notice. I went to the housing office to pick up my package. A large, green, ProFlowers box. Inside were a dozen, long stem, red roses, for me.


I seem to have some pretty good friends, they make up for all the boys I know needing man lessons.

Thanks guys, I love you.

1 comment:

Joel said...

Perhaps you should date the Pizza guy.