Dear Diary

dear-diary

I was going to read this diary entry at a local event but sadly that event was cancelled so I’m going to share it here because THE DRAMA!  Names and dates have been changed cause it’s my blog and I can do what I want.  Oh, except the name of my car.

March 19/99

Fred and I broke up in November.  I’m happy to say that I don’t remember the exact date he told me, “It just isn’t working anymore.”  At least that’s something.  I won’t know the exact date to throw myself a pity party next year to celebrate getting dumped.  I’m not sure why I’m writing in this journal again.  

March 20/99

Two thoughts today.

  1. I love my car.  I can trust and rely on my car.  Freezing cold, sleet, snow – no matter what the conditions, my car is faithful and reliable.  Therefore, my car is female.  I’ve named my car Myrtle.  I cry in Myrtle a lot.  She doesn’t mind.  She keeps all my secrets.
  2. I drive a lot now that I am single.  To work, the movies, the gym, the store, to friends – like everywhere.  I miss a having a boy to drive me sometimes.  I’m not sure if I miss my stupid, lying, cheating boy or just a boy.

March 21/99

I should write a novel.  I never thought I had enough life experience before now.  But surely with my first failed long term relationship under my belt I could write a bestseller.  Or an angry one woman play.  Or maybe I’ll just write down every ridiculous thought I have in this stupid journal in an effort to hang on to my last threads of sanity.

March 22/99

Are we there yet?

March 23/99

I’m thinking too much.  Replaying our entire relationship over and over in my head.  I look much thinner and prettier in the replay.  But Fred is bald and has a nasty eye twitch.  I hope he goes bald – like really bald.  Maybe in some freak chemical accident or something.  He deserves bald.

I should get my hair cut.  That might be nice.  Imagine if everyone in the world was bald.

March 24/99

It’s Friday night and I’m in bed at 10:45pm.  I hate this stupid journal.

March 28/99

I had a terrible day at work.  Charlotte gave me a hug but it was one of those bend at the waist hugs where there is barely any body contact.  Fred was good hugger.  Right height.  Right squishiness.  I miss him.  Ugh.  For how long will I miss him?

April 2/99

Here it is: I don’t trust people anymore.  Fred slept with someone else.  He broke the trust that existed between us.  He could have broken a lot of things and I would have been fine.  But not trust.  Why can’t people just break up with each other before someone cheats.  Why?  I hope he gets some kind of sexually transmitted disease that causes his penis to fall off.   

April 6/99

I’m feeling strong today.

April 8/99

Worse day ever.

April 14/99

A friend told me that the grocery store is a great place to meet men.  Ridiculous.  The grocery store is a great place to meet Haagen Daaz ice cream and sour cream and onion chips.  

April 15/99

It’s Saturday night and I’m in bed at 11:30pm.  If I were the other half of a couple and had spent the night drinking wine, eating pizza and watching a chick flick this would have been an adorable date night.  But as a single person this seems really lame.  

April 16/95

It is odd to become strangers with someone you love deeply.

April 20/99

I miss Fred.  I hate this.  I hate that I still feel sad and cry over this man.  This man who has not yet lost all his hair in a chemical accident.  Dammit.

April 28/99

Maybe Fred and I will get back together.  Because let’s face it, I’m all that and a bag of chips.  Seriously, who wouldn’t want me?  Or is this just something pathetic, broken hearted girls tell themselves after a bottle of wine and a box of Joe Louis.

November 9/16

Fred and I are happily married…to other people and are the best of Facebook friends.

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