The X-Factor

I have a confession to make. I still read my ex's xanga. It's a sick, sick habit I know, but I swear it's innocent. At least, I think it is?

I'm still good friends with ex-boyfriend #1 and I kind of wish I could have the same kind of friendship with ex #2, but somehow it just isn't the same. Maybe two years isn't enough time. Maybe he is annoyed by the fact that The Hubs is universally recognized as being "better" than him (at least better for me). I know for a fact he was upset about a comparison I made on my public blog, then again that was a year ago.

Our last prolonged conversation was totally bizarre. I told him about my engagement and he launched into a lecture, essentially telling me that my idea of a wedding sucked and this is what he would do instead. It left me thinking, "I'm not marying you so why the hell are you telling me?" His reaction made me feel like there was no real possibility of a friendship there, maybe not even in the distant future. We just may not be the sort of ex's that can do that.

Isn't it impossibly sad that I can stress this much over a guy I merely want to be the kind of friend you talk to once every month or so? Yes, I know it is. So that's why I read his xanga, because I'm curious to see what's going on in his life but, really, I don't want to go through the charade...or effort...of forcing myself on him as a "friend." We're not friends. I guess, I'm just kind of a stalker. Doh.

Get thee behind me.

This is an appropriate day for this post.

It's lonely where you are...

It's been awhile since I've had an anonymous blog, but with my internet life and real life rapidly intersecting I felt the need to go down this road again. There are things I want to write about that I just can't anymore, no matter how much I try to tell myself that I write for me and nothing else should matter. It does. Because when it comes down to it I don't want everyone in my real life to have total access to my emotional, irrational ranting. I reserve that for the internet world. Where hopefully it won't, you know, affect my future or anything.

So, why am I here again? What brought me to once again create this kind of space for myself? I've been feeling this panic lately. I feel it in flashes throughout the day. Wondering what the hell I am doing with my life. Supposedly, yes, I am attending graduate school in the fall, but am I? Am I really? I started writing my statement a couple weeks ago and got exactly one paragraph into it when I ran into a brick wall. Since then I've been setting deadline after deadline and completely ignoring each one. By the end of this next week though, I promise.

I have all this crap to do (besides the application) and I can't seem to muster the energy to do anything. It's like I'm frozen within this entirely useless fear. I had this reoccurring dream (nightmare?) last night after going several months without having it. The dream is that it's the Friday before finals week and I'm taking four classes but I've only been attending two. In last night's version I was frantically flipping through a schedule of classes searching for the syllabus (why the syllabus would be in the schedule of classes, I don't know) so that I could get in touch with the professors and beg them to let me drop retroactively. I woke up feeling very frazzled and stressed out.

Clearly, I need to get my act together.