C'est La Vie (6 Feb. 2009)

Okay, before I begin writing, I should probably describe how ridiculous I look right now. I’m in my black jeans and my fluffy sweatshirt, with my geeky glasses and my freshly washed hair in a braid, and I’m singing Avril Lavigne’s “My Happy Ending” with a voice that might be capable of breaking glass.

Now I’m glad I got that off my chest. So, yesterday morning I wanted to write something for my new blog. Millions of ideas were flowing inside my head with lightening speed. I expected my fingers to hurt from typing too much, but here’s the funny thing: I opened a word document, opened iTunes, and waited for my fingers to start typing, and they didn’t. I just stared blankly at the even blanker screen and then turned off my computer and walked away. Probably because I was too busy wondering exactly how disastrous that day would be. I was wrong, it wasn’t disastrous, more like catastrophic. You see, yesterday was one of the few times in my life when I suffered from heartache. I almost never suffer from heartache, because I never allow myself to get too attached to somebody, but this time I just couldn’t help it, and I started thinking about him 24/7. Then, to my surprise, I realized I was most probably being played. I just couldn’t believe it. The last time I crushed on a jerk was in the 5th grade, and I had forgotten what it was like to feel so betrayed and empty inside

So anyway, I saw him yesterday and avoided him for about an hour (which was not very easy, mind you), then I ran into him just as I was about to mutter some polite Goodbye to the people I was out with. Needless to say, I cried. I cried and I hate crying. So after a few faithful friends made me feel better (Thank you for that by the way) I went home. I went straight to the television set, I just didn’t have the heart to log on to msn and talk to him. I fell for him. I fell for him. As this realization suddenly struck me, I called Pizza Hut and ordered a margarita stuffed crust pizza and took out the ketchup bottle. It was show time. It was like a scene from some stupid drama movie, except I wasn’t crying. I just watched some random movie and did the mistake of sending him a message, asking him to call me

Thank God he didn’t

So I simply listened to some aggressive songs to vent out my anger and went to sleep. So, this morning, I made myself some tea in my favorite “Munchen” mug and sat and watched the Simpsons. So, after 2 mugs of nice hot tea, some cartoons and a really hot shower, I’m happy to say I feel better. I’m not saying that suddenly I’m over the guy and everything is alright, but with time, things change. The last thing I need right now is a relationship, a few harmless crushes would do me just fine

I know you’re wondering, why is this so depressing? It’s not actually. When I think about it, last night would have fit into my imaginary sitcom PERFECTLY. For example, when I found out he was coming I raced to the stairs to leave, while a friend tried stopping me, then I found out I was running straight towards HIM so I muttered “Actually, the second floor doesn’t seem so bad after all” and ran up the stairs, into the bathroom. And I did look pretty funny, with the pizza on my lap and the amused I-can’t-believe-I’ve-made-the-same-mistake-again look on my face. And how about when I was running around the house singing “Over and Over” by Three Days Grace with my cat chasing me and trying to bite my foot? I’ll be honest, it was a riot. I have a sick sense of humor, but nevertheless, it’s still a sense of humor. At least I’m not crying my head off right now and whining about it

Anyway, I actually do have much more to say about this past week, but this post is long enough, so I’ll write it later, and now I’m going to go to have some breakfast and ask myself when the hell I might get off my butt and start studying. Till then, Ciao!


by: Mona Bassel


P.S: I love my girls <3