A Brief History of My Personality
There's no getting around it: I'm an asshole.
To everyone.
I tell myself that I don't want to be. That I don't mean to be. But that can't possibly be true. I must be able to stop. If I could stop, then I must just want to be an asshole.
I don't know why. I can't explain why I do a lot of things.
At this point I can only laugh, ruefully, at my own stupidity in showing my true self.
My mother is right. This is why I don't have any friends.
We had a lovely friend's brunch yesterday. I made stuffing with sausage in it because I had been craving it. It was surprisingly good- and really easy to make! I just combined sausage, stuffing mix, walnuts, celery, egg and baked it for 30 minutes at 350 degrees. It was delicious!
Lies made these amazing little egg cups with jalapeno that were wrapped in bacon. Coll got fruit and Dig made fried mush and this amazing spicy garlicky pasta! It was all fantastic. And we drank and drank and watched The Titanic because it's a terrible movie and it was fun to make fun of. ROSE CALLED IT A SLAVE SHIP.
Then we got ready to go to a costume party and that was where things took a terrible turn.
I was already quite drunk. We had so many drinks. We had so many mimosas. And vodka with spiced cranberry. And hearts of the ocean. Dig also made a heart of the ocean cake!! It was so cute!! The fancy bitch.
Anyway, we get to the party- and I just lose it.
I have absolutely no excuses. I'm just a terrible and embarrassing person to be around. We walked in, said hi- tried and failed to talk to people/mingle and then I got it in my head that I wanted to play beer pong. Even though I hate beer. And was already super intoxicated. I didn't get to and I made a huge scene- throwing candy and knocking things over. Slamming doors. I don't remember any of this. I just remember being frustrated that I couldn't play. My inner self has apparently never aged out of elementary school habits. And I called a bunch of white people "lame white people" - I am pretty sure I just meant to call them all basic, but I am horrendous and so the two are synonymous to me. On that, though, I feel slightly justified because I think it's a stereotype/joke that white people are very in on. They've appropriated it for themselves and so they make listicles about how they love pumpkin spice lattes and tiny dogs in cardigans.
I have an interview with a law office tomorrow- I am not excited. I am terrified. I'm sure to fuck things up. I have another interview possibly on Wednesday with some place I know nothing about. I will have to do some research. I also got an e-mail from another law office and I have to quickly learn some more functional Spanish. So I can lie and tell them I am confident enough to translate. I will have to quickly make that not a lie. I am a terrible terrible person. I need you to know, so that you don't think I am suffering in vain when things don't go well in my life. I need myself to know that I am not suffering more than anyone else and I am no more deserving of good things because I don't do good things. I am so problematic.
To everyone.
I tell myself that I don't want to be. That I don't mean to be. But that can't possibly be true. I must be able to stop. If I could stop, then I must just want to be an asshole.
I don't know why. I can't explain why I do a lot of things.
At this point I can only laugh, ruefully, at my own stupidity in showing my true self.
My mother is right. This is why I don't have any friends.
We had a lovely friend's brunch yesterday. I made stuffing with sausage in it because I had been craving it. It was surprisingly good- and really easy to make! I just combined sausage, stuffing mix, walnuts, celery, egg and baked it for 30 minutes at 350 degrees. It was delicious!
Lies made these amazing little egg cups with jalapeno that were wrapped in bacon. Coll got fruit and Dig made fried mush and this amazing spicy garlicky pasta! It was all fantastic. And we drank and drank and watched The Titanic because it's a terrible movie and it was fun to make fun of. ROSE CALLED IT A SLAVE SHIP.
Then we got ready to go to a costume party and that was where things took a terrible turn.
I was already quite drunk. We had so many drinks. We had so many mimosas. And vodka with spiced cranberry. And hearts of the ocean. Dig also made a heart of the ocean cake!! It was so cute!! The fancy bitch.
Anyway, we get to the party- and I just lose it.
I have absolutely no excuses. I'm just a terrible and embarrassing person to be around. We walked in, said hi- tried and failed to talk to people/mingle and then I got it in my head that I wanted to play beer pong. Even though I hate beer. And was already super intoxicated. I didn't get to and I made a huge scene- throwing candy and knocking things over. Slamming doors. I don't remember any of this. I just remember being frustrated that I couldn't play. My inner self has apparently never aged out of elementary school habits. And I called a bunch of white people "lame white people" - I am pretty sure I just meant to call them all basic, but I am horrendous and so the two are synonymous to me. On that, though, I feel slightly justified because I think it's a stereotype/joke that white people are very in on. They've appropriated it for themselves and so they make listicles about how they love pumpkin spice lattes and tiny dogs in cardigans.
I have an interview with a law office tomorrow- I am not excited. I am terrified. I'm sure to fuck things up. I have another interview possibly on Wednesday with some place I know nothing about. I will have to do some research. I also got an e-mail from another law office and I have to quickly learn some more functional Spanish. So I can lie and tell them I am confident enough to translate. I will have to quickly make that not a lie. I am a terrible terrible person. I need you to know, so that you don't think I am suffering in vain when things don't go well in my life. I need myself to know that I am not suffering more than anyone else and I am no more deserving of good things because I don't do good things. I am so problematic.
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