flooded

Friends are idiots. As soon as you let them within an inch of your emotions, everything is black until you wake up with everything in shambles. The more south you go in California, the faker everything is- the people, the smiles, the building facades, the morals, and everything else in between. Not that north is much better, but its calmer and more secure in being honest, even if it means pissing someone off. Here, it seems, pissing people off is the game of choice, and everyone plays it under the guise of sincerity. People are just too complex these days, like a simple looking song with five flats sandwitched between the lines. Beautiful, intriguing and intoxicating as these complexities may be, I would much rather have a beginner's nocturne- simple, sad, and stunning.

My mother always tells me that grounded people attract the crazies, and that, unfortunately, I'm one of the grounded people. I'm quite sick of the crazies. Unbearably Loud Suitemate #1 pounded on my door this morning and bellowed, "It's 8:30 in the morning; turn your music down." I had a million responses for her that were centered around the sex that you can hear anywhere within a mile radius every time her boyfriend comes to town, and her own loudness at all times of the day, but instead I shut the door and turned down Jack Johnson, who by the way is the most mellow artist out there, and one more turn of the dial made the volume turn completely off, so it couldn't have been that loud anyway. Those are the kind of people that make you want to bang your head against the wall until part of it is dented, then confront them with "YOUR IDIOTICNESS MADE ME DEFORMED!" but unfortunately i like my short term memory. Its the long term i could do without.

All of the above rudeness that came from Unbearably Loud Suitemate #1 came only a few nights after another anger-inducing evening.... friday i believe it was. An 80s Pj party was planned in honor of Unbearably Loud Suitemate #1 and the "stress" she's had to deal with. I was to be included for whatever reason, but was completely ignored throughout the grocery shopping and the primping periods by her, and only recieved giggles and odd comments from Southern Cutie Suitemate, to my profound confusion. I tried to be bubbly and participate in the drunken revelrie, but its hard when the am I wanted question is thudding around in my head. Then as a crowning glory to the night, the suitemate that had ignored me all evening suddenly burst out with a monologue about how great it was to be friends with me and my counterpart Christof. Hurl? por que? bah.

Thoroughly depressed and flu symptoms aren't a good combination. Plus its raining outside. Could it be a more dreary day? I wish I was winnie the pooh, because then i could sing fun songs about it and eat honey and be lovably round, instead of attempting to conform to society's twiggy-esque craze. I need a new pair of gaudily colored socks. That might transform this mood, but not today, because i might sneeze on them.