Saturday, January 24, 2004

Reporting from the Winter Formal:

It sucked. It wasn’t any fun. Especially when Leslie, Dante, his darling fiancée, the school playboy Jack, and I got in a great big cuddle-puddle and I French kissed Dante, only to have everybody leave me alone when the Last Dance began.

You see, I slow-danced with Leslie, and I thought I was finally somewhere with her... or maybe I’m somewhere with Dante, because we flirted and made out... or maybe I’m somewhere with ONE PERSON in this whole freakin’ cuddle-puddle but no, Leticia’s fun for a fling, but nobody wants to have the Last Dance with her.

Yeah, that’s how my existence is; everybody loves me, but nobody wants to get close to me. Poor, poor Leticia. Pity jar is to your left.

(Oh! But I got free burritos. That makes it all better, I guess.)

(Oh, and Dante's tongue just felt really weird and unwelcome. The previous time I had French kissed someone, it was a girl, and it felt... ethereal. This was just like, whoa, there's only room for one tongue in here! Please back off so my tongue can have some personal space...)

(But, yeah, I'm glad I did it. I needed that French kiss out of my system for a while.)

(Oh, what am I saying?! Next time I'm going to have sex with him and be like, "oh, it sucked, but y'know, that's how it goes..." I wonder if I'm going to admit I'm a lesbian and go for what I really want anytime soon. Probably not, but I'm scheduling it for 2005 or so anyway.)
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