I'm over the self hatred.
Now I just hate people who whisper in the library. I cannot concentrate with all that dang whispering---whisperer ground zero is that obnoxious girl from Sarasota. Did that make sense? All the whispering stems from this one girl--she has actually made the rounds to whisper to her friends.

I feel a little weird about something I did, but I'm hoping I am over-reacting due to the late hour.

And--a 50 year old lesbian has a crush on me. Total bull dyke. She rubs my back and stares at me with a weird little smile. Creepy, right?

Wow. Lily was crying in her crate, so I went in there to check on her and she pooped in her crate, and I think Sophie must have peed on my bed. It didn't smell like pee, but who could tell with the strong poop odor in the room. Since no one in my little family seems to be able to keep their shit together, I guess I can tell you what I did that I am now feeling weird about.

First let me say that my neck is killing me--so that you can maybe say, oh, she may have done xyz, but her neck hurt. We all know neck pain can make you do silly things.

It really isn't that bad. I tried calling the most recent ex yesterday when I was avoiding studying. He didn't answer--no problem. On my way to the library tonight, I got stuck in traffic due to some holiday thing going on downtown--lot of road blocks..I had to park a few blocks away from the library. This kind of thing drives me nuts because I am convinced the world is plotting against my study time. So I called the ex again--no answer. I call his cell phone--no answer.

When I am in the middle of finals, I find tons of stuff to occupy my time, and obsessive thoughts are the norm. I decide the ex is either dead or with a new lady friend. Obviously, I prefer the latter. I knew I had the potential to obsess over this, so I decided to nip it in the bud. I deleted all of his phone numbers from my cell phone--I didn't want to keep calling him, because if the latter is the reason for his reticence, he obviously doesn't want my number burning up his line. And if he is dead, I won't need the numbers anymore anyway.

I returned home and started to play on the internet, and although I tried to talk myself out of it (out loud I might add) I googled his livejournal name so I could check his entry calendar to see if he made an entry recently--just to confirm he is alive (I can't read his journal, but livejournal makes me feel bad inside so I avoid it.) I'm guessing he is alive as he made an entry a couple of days ago. While doing the google, I see he has a dating profile under the same name. I check it out--I have to log in to see it. No problem. Since he now has proof that I looked at his profile (because he has it set up that way) I decided to leave a comment on his profile. Just basically saying he's funny and such. And while I was writing it, I was aware that he may very well be on a date with a girl from this site, so I didn't want to pimp him out too hard because he may not need it (and my pimping always works). And I wanted to send the message to him that I just happened to decide to check out his profile because I was curious NOT because I am a stalker and I am the cool ex who is totally fine with us both moving on and look, here's proof of how totally fine I am with it all, I will write a message to the women of the world recommending you as a partner.

So that is what I did and why I did it and now you can feel weird just like I do.
It is now after 3 and I think it's time for some 3's company to chase the weirdness and insomnia away--providing my bedroom no longer smells like a circus.

And for the record, I am fine with moving on. Mostly. I just hate it when the other person moves towards another person faster than I do. I am trying to remind myself that it is not a reflection of my worth, and if I really wanted to, I could totally be making it with a 50 year old bull dyke. And possibly an albino with eczema.
I have options--hot, sexy options.