Loser

Here’s a funny story. I found this announcement for a business breakfast with some cool dude in the news, inviting everyone willing to join. So I thought to myself “Hey, they are inviting everyone willing to join. I am willing to join, so I am invited, right? Now, ain’t this an opportunity to finally meet some cool people?”

I was ready to pay the entrance fee, but then noticed the press was allowed in for free, and hey, I’m press, so I applied for accreditation. They asked for further information on my media (which is a tiny online thing), and never replied. But that silence was so loud I bet my neighbours could hear it.

Over there at the cool people holding business breakfasts headquarters they probably looked at my application and just started to laugh. And then they called colleagues from a different department and laughed with them.

This reminds me those high school scenes in movies, when a nerd kid comes up to the cool crowd and asks whether they would take them as a friend, and the cool kids just laugh to their faces. Or, that one time when I tried to tell a guy I liked him, and before I could say anything, he just said “Listen, don’t…” Oh, right. That’s what I thought. Just wanted to make sure. Coughpatheticcoughlosercough.

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Don’t!!

You know how sometimes you decide to drop a bad habit, but just keep doing what you told yourself not to? Like, here’s an example. On Facebook, I switched off updates from this one guy whom I was basically stalking there. Like that would work.

So now when I go to Facebook, I go to his page, switch on “Show in news feed”, scroll that small news feed box in the top right corner of the page where you can see not just what everyone posted but their comments, likes, new friends, etc. to check if he liked or commented anything.

Then I go back to the guy’s page, switch off updates, and feel like I was totally not stalking him anymore, and my actions were just a one time thing. Which I did several times today already and couple yesterday and the day before… Totally will never do it again.

Anyways, I also told my mom she shouldn’t have bought the kids Christmas candy pack that she bought the other day. Because I was so totally sick of all the chocolate I ate yesterday, and on top of that, I always hated those holiday candy packs. And then today when mom left, I opened the pack, which she meant to keep unopened until the holidays…

I took several candies out and ate them, and they were de.li.ci.ous! This is basically a type of self-undoing behaviour where you say one thing and then 15 minutes later you are like “I never said that!!” I never said that;)

Epic Fail

So I logged to Facebook, was not expecting anything revolutionary, and GUESS WHAT I GET. A bunch of OUT OF THIS WORLD beautiful pictures from my friends’ trip to Greece last month. WHAAAT?! DUDE, I FUCKING HATE YOU FOR THIS! (Now look at me – always the one wondering why people never like my awesome pictures…)

Don’t get me wrong – these friends of mine, they are (relatively) nice people, and I like them (at least more than I don’t), and they are definitely fun to hang out with, but COME ON. Those pictures are good. Not the lame vacation shit most people bring back from their trips.

I LOVE those pictures. I LUST after those pictures. And yet, OF COURSE, I could not press ‘Like’ for any of them. Because – seriously?! DUDE, I am sitting in this room in front of my computer, wearing a parka, it’s NOVEMBER, it’s FREEZING outside, and you give me summer, beaches, sea, and, most importantly, you give me a happy couple in there??

And my problem is not just it’s that it feels like 90 percent of any given day these days is darkness, oh no… Actually, this is not my problem with those pictures AT ALL. My problem is that MY (non-existent?) relationship with the man I love SUCKS. I am probably the main contributor to fucking it up, sure, but I just don’t know better. And I just love how the best friend of the man I love is probably laughing at me (well, at least I get that vibe) for being so inapt. DUDE, I FUCKING KNOW, TEACH ME BETTER, IF YOU PLEASE.

Subconscious

Remember how I asked my subconscious to talk to me the other day? It did. I had a dream tonight, and FUUUUUUCK. Dear Subconscious, or can I call you Sub? Can we be friends? Because I appreciate all the work that you are doing with all the repressing, distorting, and other kinds of censorship being in your way.

So listen, here’s the thing. It’s not you, it’s me. I just can’t take it. SO LEAVE YOUR FUCKING THOUGHTS TO YOURSELF! You hear me, subconscious? DON’T YOU EVER TALK TO ME AGAIN.

How Pathetic I Am

Was just watching this Natalie Tran video in which she told the story of her meeting her idol, this Australian comedian I never heard of. She was embarrased of her behaviour.

She took a moment to recognize him, stared, and, when he already passed her, she shouted “Hey, Hamish!” to his back, and then some embarrassing stuff went down. Just kidding. She just shouted she loved him and that’s it. In a creepy, fan-hard way. Kidding. It was all pretty civil.

If you don’t count the gun she was holding, threatening to kill him if he wouldn’t marry her. Joke. Joking. Anyway, my point is, I have a similar story. I met this singer, very famous in Ukraine but you wouldn’t have heard of him – Fagot [yes, I know, I know, bring it on…]. And I told this story to all of my friends over and over again for a million times. And acquaintances. And people I met on the subway. And… well, you get the idea.

But that’s not the pathetic part. The pathetic part is that it was in a botanical garden, no one else around, and he even checked me out, but I freaked out so much I didn’t even think of asking him to pose for a picture with me or something. And have been regretting this ever since. And it was four years ago.

During that time he got married. Or just had a child with someone, I’m not sure. But the thing is, I kind of have this idea in the back of my mind that should I have said something then, we could be together. THIS is how pathetic I am. And I’m not even a fan of the guy or his band!!! I just have this thing for celebrities that I can’t help. I’m cheap, I know. Cheap and shallow.

Fagot, I love you, please come back! She’s a whore and I will love you forever!

[I’m just kidding.]

[No, I’m not.]

[I said you ARE.]

[No, I’m not!!]

[Okay, okay, I am, I love a different person, I don’t care for anybody else.]

[But once I’m done with that one, it’s ON, Fagot, it’s ON.]

I Didn’t Do It

I want to go to Resident Evil: Retribution so much I was part of the movie in my tonight’s dream. We were hiding from zombies in a dorm, where I supposedly lived during my university studies. There was this room, equipped with all the stuff for protection against zombies and a door that you should’ve seen – it had state of the art locks across its whole perimeter.

Lately, I’ve been having these quite literal dreams – a boy I like, a boy I like touching my hand, a boy I like kissing me, a boy I like hugging me, a boy I like hanging out with me, a boy I… well, you got the idea. Made me wonder – hey, subconscious, those are the things that I am actually aware of, why wouldn’t you send me a message about something I am repressing?

Like, I am pretty sure I wanna murder that girl with pretty smile and cute face that he put a like on couple weeks ago on Facebook, and I’d be the first one running towards that girl whom he stood way too close to in that one picture, should she decide to jump off a tall building. And – no, I am not gonna be rushing to councel her there.

Well, you get the drift. Subconscious, TALK TO ME.

[Kids, jealousy is a bad feeling, you should not hurt people out of jealousy. I know I do. I mean I don’t. I *don’t*. You hear me? I DON’T. I know what you are thinking right now – girl, don’t run to me when the police… I don’t. I dooon’t. Dooon’t. Not guilty. [Starts singing in Velma Kelly/Katherine Zeta-Jones voice:] They had it coming, they had it coming// They had it coming all along// I didn’t do it, inspite if I’d done it// How could you tell me that I was wrong?]

Give a Kiss

REJOICE, THOU THROUGH WHOM THE HOLY ANTIBIOTICS SHALL PASS! I’ve been sick for the most part of last week and, boring, boring, you don’t care anyways, boring, boring, DOCTOR SAID I SHOULD TAKE ANTIBIOTICS. HOORAY!

You see, antibiotics are my thing. They may be bad for everyone else, but me – I breathe antibiotics, I sweat antibiotics, I… Well, when I take antibiotics, I am full of life and energy, with antibiotics I snap right back in shape faster than you can say “recover”.

[Kids, don’t take me seriously, antibiotics are bad for everybody and they fuck up your health.]

And thanks to the antibiotics fix, my mood is much better now [Not because antibiotics affect mood, you idiot, because I am so relieved I will definitely get better now]. I was quite a bit of a nervous wreck these days. I’m not proud of the ways I’ve been talking to people. And I kept assuming they all: a) hated me, b) didn’t care about me in an intentionally cruel way, c) hated me.

This, until I read this gossip blog about how Keira Knightley managed to keep it together through the ten years of fame (which is a huge psychological burden, trust me on that as I’m a psychology professional). And I was like, WOW, Keira Knightley could keep it together FOR A DECADE and I can’t pull myself together NOW???!! YOU CAN DO THIS, GIRL. You can do this.

I mean – with antibiotics? [Starts singing in Ariana Grande voice:] I CAN DO ANYTHING: RESURRECT GANDHI, RESURRECT KING. You don’t have to be a billionare, you don’t have to have much too show how much care. Like, give a wink, Give a kiss. Like, give a little happiness!..

P.S. Wow, this blog sounds angry if you read it with the wrong intonation. Read it in a friendly, stand-up-comedian intonation, please. [I feel like I should include this disclaimer in my blog tagline. Totally. Will do. Later.]