2004-09-06 - 1:34 p.m.
If the semester continues in the same way the last week has been, this will be a remarkably dull and uneventful few months. Sorry, I'm just depressed.
Have you ever seen Bridget Jones's Diary? In the very beginning, she goes to the Turkey Curry Buffet and agrees to wear a hideous dress her mother lends her. Her family is trying to set her up with Mark Darcy, y'see, so Bridge's doing the drinking/smoking party thing and talking to Mark, who stands there like a lump looking around like everyone is gross. Then this happens:
Mark Darcy, to his mother: I certainly don't need to be set up with a person who smokes like a chimney, drinks like a fish, and dresses like her mother.
*Mark turns and Bridget is right there behind him, getting a piece of turkey curry.*
Bridget, trying not to look hurt and horrified: Mmm, turkey curry - my favorite!
Yeah, something like that happened to me the other day at this party. Sorry for the long transcriptual explination but if you've seen the movie, it was a lot like that. There's just something about being insulted by a total stranger to make you feel like crap, especially when you were hoping he was nice. Of course, it was probably more of a "I'm the only sober one at this party except for my friend so I'm gonna make mean jokes about this girl who is probably drunk, because I want to express my social insecurity in the form of rude humor that you really shouldn't use in front of someone until they know you well enough to know you're only joking."
Yeah, but I had a shot of vodka in me, so I just left a few minutes later because it seemed better than sticking around talking to this asshole. He did say he was only kidding, but yeah...whatever. The first impression had already come and gone.
So really I'm just feeling disappointed. I realize now I probably should have stayed, but when you live like 3 feet away, wouldn't you go home too? I hope Heather and Katie aren't insulted that I left. But I suck anyway, so.
And this is way too personal, and I will erase it later.
