don't plan the plan if you can't follow through

For some reason, it seems like everyone I know has been having some sort of relationship trouble. My friend is in what seems to be a really one sided relationship. Talking to her today, it seemed like she was being supportive in every way for her boyfriend, but when it was time for him to be supportive of her, he bailed.

Even as I talked to her today and tried to give advice, I'll admit that inside, I gave a sigh of relief that my relationship didn't have any of these troubles. We're the best couple. We don't have fights.

And the irony of it is that not 30 minutes later, we had a spat. Over almost the same issue. Humbling.

I always thought that I was a good, supportive boyfriend. But today Annie made me realize that while I might be supportive for some things, I'm not good enough at being considerate or supportive for other, more important issues. Being at her sorority events or dance performances isn't enough. What I need to do is be better at comforting her, be more appreciative of when she comforts me, and I need to show her that I really do want to spend time with her. That whenever I'm with her I feel so..fulfilled when I'm with her, and that I want to be as fulfilling for her. That during the day, when I'm not with her, I feel a little emptier, and not nearly as happy. That even though I mess up so often, I really do care about her and that I want to make her as happy as she makes me.

But actions speak louder than words, and I guess there's been a lack of action on my part.

I promised her that I'd try to be more considerate and supportive, that we'll do more things she wants to do, and that I'll be more enthusiastic and eager for her.

But trying is useless. Only doing counts.

Wanted: Depth of constitution to do as I say and say what I mean.

RAWR.

She laughed as she trained the barrel of her pistol at me. I quickly pulled the trigger on my own pistol, but was greeted by only the dry click-click of an empty gun. A moment later, I felt the impact of her own shot smack me in the chest, rocking me and making my head spin. Shit.

Fuck it. I pistol whipped her across the face, with a loud crack that sent her reeling backwards. "Wha..what.." she sputtered. "You can't do that.."

"YOU ARE A POOR FIGHTER," I replied. I quickly jumped guard, wrapping my legs around her waist and cranking downwards on her neck with both hands. She collapsed, and I torqued my hips, sweeping her sideways and ending up in mount.

I swung out hard and punched her in the face a few times, feeling the shock of fist colliding into flesh and bone all the way up my arms. She covered her face with her arms, hoping to lessen the blows. Mistake.

I grabbed her arm and pivoted quickly into an armbar. She screamed as I hyperextended her arm.

And then Annie woke me up.

my friday night.

So after an awesome BJJ practice session (I downed a Red Bull beforehand. It didn't give me wings but it gave me some fucking awesome stamina.), I picked up a bottle of gin and Kahlua from my grad student friend and headed to Collegetown to get some lemon juice, tonic water, and milk. Then I headed home and took a shower. Because of my super intense workout, there was nothing in my stomach. Here is where logic and laziness/frugality come into conflict:

Nothing in stomach = bad time when drinking.
Something in stomach = have to go outside and buy food.

Solution? EAT REESE'S PIECES. Because they are definitely filling.

So yeah. Headed out to my coworker's house party with my kickass girlfriend who talks in her sleep (she like yelled out "HEY" two nights ago.) We got there around 11, and started partying it up. We played this game called "smack that" which involves drinking, backhanding ho's, and getting money. Great fun was had by all. Except I kind of sucked, and Annie kind of kicked my ass 36 different ways. So yeah, great fun was had by all :D

I don't really remember to well what happened after that, but I recall meeting Sandie and co. at CTB, then heading to my room for more drinks. And then waking up the next morning, extremely hungover..

Annie filled me in on the embarrassing details later.

Fucking Reese's Pieces.
--
In recent news, there's been a few sexual assault things going on at school. It's pretty disgusting what men can sink to. It's more disgusting that the perpetrators probably aren't townies or vagrants--they're probably Cornell students.

Fuckers.

"It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are."
e.e. cummings

Why do I seem to have the perfect knack for saying the wrong thing at the wrong time? It seems that just when everything is going perfect, when you've had the greatest weekend in a long time, I manage to fuck it in the face with just a few words.

And I'm sorry for it. I guess I'm just not mature enough.

rawr.

When push comes to shove, I just stand and scream "Fuck 'em all."

empathy, assistance, and real students.

So I sit here in the library, furiously pounding on my sweatshop-produced laptop (5 essays due tomorrow), and in the midst of transferring some of the greatest literature to ever grace the Chinese language to the computer screen in front of me, my stomach lets out a huge fucking rumble.

It was the homewrecker of rumbles, the heavyweight of gut growls, and the slap-you-in-the-face-with-my-cock (metaphorically) of..slaps with body parts. It was a demon that thundered to be loosed in an angry stream of hot scorching gas, that raged against its visceral confines, that demanded to be let free to walk upon the earth and wreak havoc upon the olfactory sensibilities of my nearby library patrons. It was the equivalent of King Kong pounding his massive chest, roaring to the skies. It was Beethoven on his deathbed, raising his fist to heaven. It was the Trojan Horse armed to the teeth with rocket launchers. It was over 9000.

--
Three more essays to go.

This past weekend, I went to a crossings party with Annie. It's the first time I've been out in a long time, and only the second time we've been to a party together (we actually ran into each other at the same frat before we started dating. Reminds me of my dad-meets-mom story. Details to follow).

It was good fun. I like hanging out with her sisters, and I think I get along fairly well with them. I ended up eating Cool Whip out of the tub with one of them. Delish.

Annie said I dance like a girl. I think she's just jealous of my booty gyrations and hip undulations. I can give strippers and professional go-go dancers a run for their money.

So I guess I have a backup plan. If I ever fail at life..Chippendale's is only a call away.

beef.

Copyright Natalie Dee
---

Recently, due to the suicides that have occurred, the University put up fences along the bridges/gorges around campus. Sounds reasonable, right?

I thought so. That's why I was so surprised to hear that people were protesting against the fences. Why? Because it was fucking with the aesthetics of the scenery.

Are you fucking kidding me? That's like going to the doctor's for a vaccination, and then saying "Nevermind, I don't want it because it'll leave a track mark and I won't look pretty." Yes, you'll look even better dead.

People are killing themselves, and we're concerned with the scenery? Where are your priorities? Do sticks and stones mean more to you than the life of a fellow human being? For all you know, the next suicide victim might be a friend or family member.

"But I would know the signs and say something..." Bullshit. If the signs are so easy to recognize, then why do so many suicides still occur? Don't underestimate depression. It fucks you up, no matter who you are.

One columnist in the Cornell Daily Sun argued against the fences, saying that it sends the wrong message to students: jump and you get a memorial that makes everyone think of you. Are you fucking kidding me? That's the last thing that's on a suicidee's mind. And no one makes a hero out of you. If anything (and I don't mean to disrespect the memory of any of the people who've committed suicide), it makes people remember you in a worse light. I know that some people view suicide victims as weak and selfish. People don't kill themselves to get negative attention.

People here sometimes have their heads so far up their idiot asses it's amazing they're even still breathing. Of course, it's a mixed barrel of apples. You get some fluffheaded idiots who care more about their brand name rain boots, but you also get some truly deep, intelligent, and thoughtful people who open your eyes to new perspectives.

But the whole thing stinks to high heaven of idiocy, the inability to empathize, and doom in the future. If we college students, the hailed "future of the nation," are more concerned with looking at the sunset than preventing death, we're seriously fucked as a country.
--
In other recent news:
-Aced my Psych of Emotion exam! I think.
-Switched to running Linux (OpenSuse 11.2) on my laptop because it died last week. Linux is fun. But also a pain in the ass. *shakes fist angrily*
-Bought two books: "God is Dead" and "I, Lucifer." They should be interesting reads.
-Two more prelims.
-I need a drink. Multiple drinks.

i hate social psych.