Gotta Get The Sickness Out

No, not another infection.

But I gotta get rid of those that bring me down. I sound like a "girl power" song, or maybe a musical finale. Ya know, the one where suddenly she realizes what she needs to do and she can DO IT!

Blech. I can't stomach that kind of irrational hope. I'm going through my life with a fucking machete right now. Get in, or get out. I'm done with flakiness, I'm done with people who think this life transformation of mine has been superficial or vain. Yeah, a little vanity comes with it. Sorry I'm no longer the ugly girl you hang around with to feel better about yourself.

Michelle is the only one, truly, I think who has her heart in the right place and always has. Barb is getting there. But honestly, I don't see why Rachelle and I are even friends. I mean, she has this immature and convoluted idea of dating in the workplace and all she does outside of it is "party". I mean, she had to like, leave my birthday celebration early to go party. My bad. I forget that I'm not important.

Only Barb and Michelle ever take time for me. But right now, no one seems to care. To both of them, I'm just shallow these days. Yes, I've had a ton of cosmetic surgery, excuse me if I get excited to wear a size 4, or I can flirt these days. I only have one thing on my mind these days, and it's ME. For once in my who goddamn life, it's about ME. Not your fucking boy problems, not the fact that you've fucked up your brain with cocaine, not about anything. For once, my life is about me and what I want.

Well, what do I want? Let me spell it out for you.

I'm gonna be hot one day. I'm getting there physically, but one day, I'm gonna know it mentally. And it's NOT going to be because I had implants this week. It's going to be because I took charge of my body, my health, and who the hell I am going to be, and if you don't like it, get the fuck out of my way.

I'm gonna get my degree. A fucking PhD bitches. Yes, the kind that requires intense dedication. Why? Because I'm smart. Because I know I can contribute something to the world besides an addiction to reality television. How? Easy - GRE's are in September, applications for graduate school are due in December, I'll be accepted somewhere by February.

And then I'm the FUCK out of Los Angeles by August. This town is toxic. Not that it's not toxic in New York. In both places, people are obsessed with idiotic shows like "Gossip Girl" and whatever the fuck is on MtV or some shit channel. Newsflash: I don't CARE. I watch "House". "Big Love". "Weeds". I watch shows that require a modicum of intelligence to understand. Sorry if "30 Rock" goes over your heads, dumbasses.

I'm so much fucking better. Yeah, maybe that's pretentious of me. But sitting here, living with my mother at the moment, recovering from reconstructive cosmetic surgery, I know that I'm destined for better things than drinking bad beer at a karaoke bar. Sure, I made the best of it because I thought maybe they would do the same for me. I didn't realize "going out for Shira's birthday" involved 2 people panning out at 8 pm because one was tired and the other had to go to another party. Barbara really impressed me that night. She really did. Not that I'm not pissed at her and everyone else for not stepping up to even CARE that I had surgery, but whatever.

I was raised with human decency. The ability to care about others, perhaps a bit too much. You think I like that I'm breaking a friendship with Ian? No, it HURTS. But goddammit, I cannot have a friend with this kind of drug problem anymore. I don't want to hear about Ambien cocktails and how it's a "buzz". Fuck that.

Look, I'm a stoner, I get it. I like my pot.

Ian, he's gonna make it no matter how many drugs he's on. He'll be the classic brilliant lawyer, chain smoking or whatever, taking uppers and downers, making money up the wazoo and having girls at his whim. Let him have it, he's smart and I give credit where credit is due. I just don't want to be a part of it anymore. And that's my prerogative, so I'm gently telling him to get the fuck out of my life. I will always love him. And when I see him in the papers in 5 years on a major case, I'll smile, because I know he'll be successful. I'll miss him. It hurts, just the idea. But I can't handle the drug use, no matter how "non addicted" he is. It just hurts ME too much. And babe, I gotta put me first.

Who else is next on my chop chop list?

I made up with Meghann today. Because I missed her. See, I had made the mistake of counseling her ex-boyfriend after she somewhat cruelly dumped him. Apparently there's a rule that best friends don't talk to their best friends' ex-boyfriends. Yeah, I missed that one. I wanted to help him. I'm a sucker for people in psychological distress, okay? Meghann became irrationally convinced that I wanted him sexually and was highly jealous and screaming that I betrayed her. Sorta. I mean, I did betray that adage I wasn't so familiar with, but sleeping with him was never in my thoughts. Anyway, after quite a few months, I reached out to her.

See, I was in services and looked down and saw the spoon ring she had gotten me for my graduation gift. And when that happened, I looked at it, and knew it was time. I apologized for my actions, for hurting her, and while things aren't back to normal, I am SO grateful to have her back in my life. I missed her so much. She drives me insane, I don't agree with 1/2 of what she does, but I love her, and that's what matters.

Let's see, let's see....

WTF happened with James, I don't know. We had a lovely second date, and than POW. Whatever. I really had some hopes there, but it's his loss. He says he has a big trial. Uh-huh. Yeah, a simple "Hope you feel better after surgery" would have been nice, especially since he'd said he would come and sit with me post-op and be all nice and loving. Looks like THAT ain't happening. I'm sad about it, but whatever. It's his loss. I'm not gonna say I'm better than that, because I thought he was good enough for me. So be it.

And that's it. This isn't an FML type post, but it's cathartic. I'm done being the pushover, the sweetheart. I'm a nice, amazing person. But don't fuck with me people. I may have just had silicone implants put in my body, but I didn't lose my IQ. I may have lost my fat, but dammit, I'm smarter, more determined, and have been through more shit on my pinky finger than half of 'em will ever go through. So get with the program or get the fuck out.