Stay tonight and make everything alright.

Lindsay’s birthday week is finally over. I spent way too much money on her. I tots wish my birthday celebrations were that intense.

Friday was the party. I think it was fun, but probs because I tried to invite my friends. Jimena burnt the carpet when a coal from the hookah was blown off the tray by the fan…oops! Now Jamie and Diana are going to hate us hookah-ing even more!

Boys are still stupid. I gave my favorite hoodie to one (no idea why…) and then was super pissed and annoyed the next day. I need to stop wasting my time with boring, unsatisfactory boys. The only appeal of this one was his grad student/TA status. Oh, and that the OTHER boy didn’t show up. Over it. Saw hoodie boy today though and asked him to return it. haha.

Saturday Lindsay, Jessica, and I went to Brent and Derek’s party at Tuscany. I ususally HATE going to Tuscany because of that terrible night two years ago, but we ended up having a really good time. Well, at least Lindsay and I did. Jess was being emo and awkward. Lindsay and I got into a huge fight later that night, but I can’t really remember why or what it was even about. I don’t want to say that because people will think I’m lying or incredibly overdramatic. Both options are embarrassing and suck really bad. Did some stupid stuff. Thought I lost my phone. Turns out it was in Jessica’s car. Go figure. At least I still have a phone.

Getting ready to look for jobs is getting so incredibly stressful. I went to the Bain company presentation tonight and it was fucking intense. I hate Marshall kids. They get so annoyingly into shit like this. I don’t have a chance at getting a real job. I’m going to the CPPC tomorrow to talk to a career counselor. Hopefully they make me feel better about landing a job slash my own ‘unique’ skills and talents. Hopefully.

Yesterday Matchbook Romance randomly played on my iTunes, so I spent a good hour listening to Stories and Alibis. So high school. I associate so many people with those songs…Tiger Lily reminds me of Jordan Mondau and how she loved hearing me sing it…Greatest Fall and Save Yourself screams Rory drama…Hollywood and Vine recalls the time Sam and I skipped first class and bought Warped 2005, which is one of two CDs that changed my life. That’s kind of sad, but it’s true and I love it to this day.

Def called him when I was drunk and upset as fuck Saturday. All he said was, ‘Is this Emily? Bye.’ I still find it highly irritating that he can be that mad at me when what I did was nothing, NOTHING compared to the shit I went through. Then again, I kept going back. I wanted to forgive him. He wants nothing to do with me and that will hopefully encourage me to fucking move on.

I still have a cold. It sucks. I don’t feel like I’m sleeping enough lately. Plus the fucking douchebags that live across the alley are loud as fuck. I want to throw something at them.

i miss you. could you come around sometime?

Max Bemis decided to sell personalized songs in Say Anything’s merch store and I’m terribly tempted to do it. $150 seems like a good deal for a song written about you the vocalist/lyricist of a band I’ve loved for years.

When I read that post on AP, I immediately started drafting paragraphs. I wanted a song about Rory that would talk about how much I hated him for fucking with me for years. It was spiteful and immature and at the time, I felt strongly about the message. On the drive to Seattle later that night, I realized a song like that wouldn’t do anything to help me get over him, which I thought was the point. All that song would do is remind me of things he’s done and what a piece of shit he is. I know that right now. I want to get over it and move the fuck on.

My latest idea is to briefly explain how I was/am stuck in this tumultous ‘relationship,’ but that I realize I am worth more than some girl on the side. I need an anthem that will motivate me to keep going, to keep my head up, remind me that I am worth so much more than I’ve been treated in the past. That song, that message would be worth the money.

I wish I was a better writer. I fear that I will just sound pathetic and immature.

I’m tired of being here. I don’t feel like I have any friends here. All the people I would love to see are not here. I spend most of my time sitting in my room, sleeping, or shopping. Bad habits come back. I wish I was back in LA, especially when I see the pictures of everyone having fun at parties or just hanging out and being silly. Everything is so serious here.

It’s funny how I think things with the new one are different, but there are so many similarities. I have to drive because he has no car, he tells me my excuses are lame…actually, that’s all I can think of right now. I guess I’m being trivial, but those two things bothered me enough in the last 24 hours to influence my decision to stay in tonight. Fuck driving to Seattle again. I just want to sleep away the rest of the day. Or weekend. Make that summer. I have got to get out of here.

Oh, and I’m still phoneless.

third time’s a charm

It seems like no matter how hard I try to live drama free, it always finds me. With a vengeance, too.

I flew down to LA this weekend to help move out and clean Prov 13 with the roommates. Jamie and Diana’s room is a lot nicer than ours. It’s upsetting and I’ll have to figure out a way to gently tell them that it’s not ok before I freak out in a few months and everyone hates me. Remember, I’m trying to live drama free.

Jessica got us tickets to see the Soundtrack of Your Summer Tour with the Maine, Metro Station, Good Charlotte, and Boys Like Girls. Since we both wanted to get drunk for it, we decided to take the Metro to the Wiltern and back. We should have known that night was going to get bad when we got on the wrong train right from the beginning.  At least we met an interesting dude while we waited. He jokingly told us that we couldn’t pass and since we were buzzed, we stopped for lack of better knowledge. I ended up asking him questions about how to get to the Wiltern and he correctly guessed that we were on our way to see Good Charlotte. He did not look like the kind of person who would know anything about terrible pop punk bands, but then he started talking about how he used to be in a band that played with the Distillers. I think his name was Paulo…I should look that up to see how legit the conversation was.

The show was really fun. It was honestly the most fun I’ve had at a show in a long time. The Maine were adorable. Just adorable. I’m in love and I hate myself for being such a little fangirl.  Metro Station was terrible, so I ran to the bar to get us Long Islands. Bad idea. Bad, bad, idea. Good Charlotte was so fun. It reminded me so much of what it was like to be at my first show. I’m glad that I went, despite the fact that it is kind of embarassing to admit that I spent Saturday night hanging out with 15 year old girls.

Jessica and I left after GC because Boys Like Girls have absolutely no talent. I called Jimena to tell her we were on our way home and put my phone back in my purse. As we walked out the venue, I reached back in my bag to grab my phone, but to my dismay, it wasn’t there. Jessica went back in to look for it, but both of us were pretty fucked up, so looking for it in the middle of a show wasn’t really going to do anything. At that point, I fell apart. I hardly remember the trip home because I was crying and really fucking drunk. It took us 2.5 hours to get home because we couldn’t figure out the Metro.

I woke up Sunday morning confused as to why I was still wearing my clothes, then reality hit me. I stumbled out to the living room, (I was still drunk…) and screamed at Jime, sleeping on the couch, ‘I lost my phoooooooooone!’

She already knew. Apparently a girl texted and called her that she found my phone. I was supposed to call in the morning to make arrangements to pick the phone up. I was so relieved.

But I called and she didn’t answer. Not once. I left a scathing message. I cried. I laughed. I tried to forget about it. I tried to think positively. I left LA without a phone. Again.

I spent most of my day worrying about my phone. Was she going to sell it? How stupid could she be? I had her number. I could call LAPD. Every bad sitauation that could happen ran through my head over and over and over. I couldn’t concentrate on anything. There were times I almost burst into tears at work.

But somehow everything seemed to work out. She called Eric today and I was finally able to speak with her. She’s not going to keep my phone; she’s going to mail it back to me. This Metro Station fan I vilified to everyone all day was really a hardworking, fun-loving girl who wanted to help me. She lost her phone and had it returned to her, so he wanted to return the favor. My faith in humanity is restored. Well, for the day at least.

Things are so much better right now. I still feel terribly depressed, but at least my phone will be back soon. How will the other unnecessary drama in my life be resolved?