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"Life Is Sweet" As I�m listening to Veronique Sanson, and she�s French, and consequently, she mostly sings in French, I thought I�d write this entry in French. But then, I realised I can�t put the proper accents on letters on this thing, so I abandoned the idea. It�s probably just as well, as I doubt that anyone who reads this speaks French fluently enough to understand. I feel wretched. Miserable. Wednesday has got to be the worst day of the week ever created. Worse even than Monday. Monday at least is a beginning; it serves some purpose. Wednesday just finds me lying in the middle of a ditch of a week, realising that it�s pointless to look back at the beginning and that I can�t quite see the ending, and even if I could, I�m not sure I�d want to, because it might not end well, and then of course, once it�s ended, I just have to start again anyway. Despite having had quite a lot of really good sex with quite a lot of really attractive people in my life, I think I shall never get used to the jealousy, frustration, helplessness and anger I feel when people with whom I wish to have sex opt to have sex with someone else. Last night was a particularly bad night on that front. (I began this message yesterday, but I feel much the same today, despite listening to completely different music (Garbage, BEAUTIFULGARBAGE -- Ms. Shirley rocks my world, oh, yes, she does), so I'll continue it here.) So Tuesday night, I was online having a little chat with my ex-boy, Lars, who kindly informed me he'd fucked a sort-of friend of mine, whom I'd later run into at a party, and whom he knew very well I wanted. (Hours pass�Lunch with Susan was lovely�Did some work�Switched music again�You want good rage? Go find a copy of Maria McKee�s out-of-print album LIFE IS SWEET. Amazing lyrics, interesting chord structures, ferocious guitars and singing that�s beyond impassioned. Oh, yeah, and she�s beautiful, too.) So anyway, during the course of this conversation on Tuesday, he also feels the need to confess to me that he�s fooled around with another guy whom we both met at a party, but with whom I without a doubt connected more. The icing on the cake, as it were, is that not only did I feel I�d made more of a connection with both of these characters, but also, I believe he managed to hook up with both of them before I broke my month-long streak of celibacy after the end of our relationship. And then, slightly over a week ago, when I went out solely because he said he�d be there, and I hadn�t seen him in over a month, he had the nerve to ask to kiss me and to talk about how much he loved me. If it meant all that much to you, I�d think you�d have waited a little longer before going to bed with someone else, and you�d have thought twice about sleeping with someone I consider a friend. Tuesday night (Oh, yes, the trauma continues. Perhaps I should�ve taken that conversation as a sign and stayed my ass at home, but no, I�m a glutton for punishment if ever one has lived.), I went out, with the intentions of hanging out with my friends and maybe a little other entertainment besides, and had my flirting with one of my friends, who has repeatedly expressed interest (Oh, I sound like a complete whore, but you know damn well what I mean.) interrupted by another sort-of friend, who just swooped in and took over. They left together. I don�t know if anything happened, as one of them was pretty much incapacitated, but I was furiously jealous and snubbed. Quite frankly, it was one of the worst judgment calls I�ve ever seen the initial friend make, and my other friends were horrified, because honestly, I�m cuter than the guy he went home with. �Nuf said. And now, I�ve e-mailed several people recently who have opted not to write back or call. I�m occasionally inclined to just say fuck �em all, �cause they�re lame and they suck. (I am djraindog�s damaged ego & insecurity, and I�m riding him all the way to the gym.) My friend Jason, who used to be gay and has now been involved with the same woman for about 2 years, has decided that men are pretty much only good for one thing. I'm starting to agree. They've all blown their chances. I need someone better. I shall go look elsewhere. On the up-side, there is much for which I am greatly thankful. At the top of that list right now is Ms. McKee screaming into my ears my recent mantra: �I need somebody smarter than me; I need to exercise my vocabulary. I�ll shut up and learn from him. I�ll shut up, now.� r
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