Just Shut Up and Get Over It!

... I mean him.

Ugh. Okay, you know how there are some people in this world who you just absolutely do NOT see eye to eye on ANYTHING with? I know one of those people. Many people would call her "fun", "loud", "a good person to be with". You know what I call her? "Rude." "Obnoxious." "Mean."

It's a well known fact that I'm not the nicest person alive. In fact, I'm very sarcastic (I like to call it witty) and sometimes downright mean, but isn't everyone? At least I'm not rude. Okay, sometimes I can be, but definitely not ALL THE FREAKING TIME. Like her.

What's funny is that whenever I tell her that I don't like her, she thinks I'm joking! Seriously? I really, really don't like you. She's been broken up with her significant other for about 10 months. Almost a year. And yet she STILL pines after him. Stalks him. Texts him. Talks to the girl he's with (or something like that.). Just GET OVER IT. He doesn't like you, he's a scumbag, and he's super super ugly. Okay?

What's funny is that she cries and cries and cries over him - because he sent his NEW girlfriend roses, and he never sent her any; because of this, because of that - but I doubt that he thinks about her very often. He's probably trying to get on with his own life instead of living in the past, which is something that SHE needs to do.

So seriously, get over it. And stop sleeping around, because no matter how many men you sleep with, you're not going to get him back and it just makes you look like a slut.

xoxo.

Glory

It's a funny word: Glory. What does it mean, what does it stand for? When you think of glory, you think of pride, right? Or thankfulness, I suppose. "Glory be to the Father" - thanks God, you're great. "Glory for our country" - Wow, America, you sure are a super country. But glory to me? It's something different. It's about wanting, about needing, and about hoping that one day, I'll get the satisfaction of saying, "I did something great, and other people think it's awesome too."

It's why I cook - so I can get that look of surprise; that element of eagerness when you see the food I've prepared. I think people should have fun with their food, be excited about things they're eating, hell, get hard-on's from the element of surprise.

It's also why I write. Do I want to write the next Great American Novel? Hell no. I'm not Fitzgerald, or Rand or god help me, Shakespeare. I'm me. And so when I write, I want others to be proud to be able to read my book - I want them to share in my experiences with me. And I want them to understand that, even though this could be the greatest or the worst book you've ever read, I went through a hell of a lot to get here.

So, I absolutely hate writer's block. Okay, okay, I wouldn't call it writers block, I'll call it... a painful memory block. I just like to say it's writer's block, because it makes me sound more edgy. Truth is? I'm running out of ideas. No no, that's not right either, Abbey - you have plenty of ideas. HELL - a whole summer of these wonderful, great ideas... You're just too scared as shit to actually put them on paper. It's true. I don't want to bring up these memories with Sam again (because... you know that's what the novel is actually about. Is that sad and pathetic, or just pathetic?), and I certainly don't want to relive them.

But maybe, just maybe I can do this without actually being pained. Without crying. Without feeling like a total loser (... okay, scratch that - I will feel like a loser, but at least I'll have a novel to show for it). I think that sometimes, and this is the pathetic, hopeful (God, I hate that word) side coming out in me, you have to do things, just for creative purposes.

So maybe after texting him (... don't ask), and getting him to realize that I'm not as crazy as I seem, I'll actually have the glory of having the next Great American Novel.

Damn, I'm smart.