movies, and movies in my mind
2007-04-13, 1:01 a.m.

Yay for movies:

1) I took a mental health break and went to the movies with Katie. We saw The Reaping, and oh my GOD. Satanic cults suddenly feel like a very real and imminent threat.
2) Then I watched Enough on TV in Katie and Natalie's room, and it made me feel like I could probably never get married because hello, SPOUSAL ABUSE, and I definitely could never go through boxing /Zen Buddhism boot camp like J.Lo and get all fierce and face down my assailant. My knowledge of boxing consists of a couple times flailing along to Billy Blanks' Tae-Bo workout. If I were ever to be assaulted, my defense would be to plie and rapidly rotate my fists around each other above my own head

Not yay for awkward situations:

So Constant-Music-Sending-Boy. I realized relatively quickly that I Don't Like Him Like That. Which is a big step up from the days where I used to cling to my infatuations like... well, something that clings very steadfastly, like a frightened baby, or static. But now there's a new dilemma--the "I figured out I don't like you, now LEAVE ME ALONE" sort of dilemma.

As I told Linds last night online, it's not even that he's bothering me constantly because he's particularly interested in any romantic way. No no, this guy just likes to TALK. And send me YouTube videos. And um, randomly divulge grim details of his sordid past. This would be one thing if we had known each other for umm, more than a month. But at this point in the game? Anyone who cared what someone else thought of them would try to keep the Crazy to a minimum. Apparently to CMSB, I'm just a black hole into which he can hurl his deepest darkest secrets, just to get them off his chest--it's not like it matters whether I think he's mentally unsound. Psh.

Hmm. I didn't realize how bitter I was about this. Well, that's why I'm trying to avoid him now. Cause really. Awkwardness all around.

It's recently come to my attention that a couple nights ago, I talked in my sleep. That's scary. I really don't like the idea that my mouth keeps running when my brain's not operative. I mean, who knows what sort of embarrassing things my subconscious could decide to blurt out while I'm having that really awesome dream where that hot guy I always see walking around campus who always wears a blue hoodie and I are snorkeling together in the Bahamas and frolicking along the shore and having a picnic lunch on the beach and suggestively eating Nutella off of a spoon--

BAD SUBCONSCIOUS. BAD.

See, I can't even trust myself awake.

That's totally my favorite dream, though.

Speaking of dreams. Goodnight, all.

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