Philotic Web

I've never seen Casablanca. And I own two copies.

I ate a filling and delicious dinner. It was even healthy.

Yet for some reason, I'd really enjoy some fast-food french fries right now.

I forgot how old I was when I read that thread. I'm not freaking kidding. I really really thought I was 18, until I was confused enough to look at the date, and calculate what it was.

This is a very weird feeling... I hope I haven't been brainwashed or something recently... At least I don't feel like I've converted to anything (ba-dum ching).

I forgot my age one time. I was at a casino and naturally I was carded by the security guy. He took my i.d. and asked my name, I answered, he asked my date of birth, I answered, and then he said "and that means you're how old...?" and I had to think about it for a moment. I thought he was going to accuse me of having a fake i.d. and toss me out! I mean, no one should have to think to state their real age, right? He didn't seem to notice or care though.

A few days ago someone asked me how old I was. I answered right away and confidently--the way people usually reply to that question . About 2 seconds later, I realized that I'd given her the wrong age. I felt quite stupid. Honestly, I've been 15 for months...how could I get it wrong?

I'm feeling absurdly stressed right now. I should write another essay before I go to bed, because I have plans tomorrow. Also, I don't know what I'm doing. This crazy stress is not healthy. And I'm so distracted. And I'm having trouble remembering how to speak any language, or how to spell. It makes me nervous. I'm really worried about the math thing. It's harder thatn I thought it was. Oh gosh, it's gonna be bad. There's someone I really want to talk to right now, but I can't go calling people this late at night. I have spent too long on the computer this weekend. Things are going kind of badly. I have to get to work. Now.

confession: i can no longer pull all-nighters. which is sad to me when i think that i used to live on 3-4 hours a night. then again, i should remember that it wasn't a good time for me.

confession: there's a part of me that wants people to worry about me, but there's also a part that feels guilty if someone does worry.

confession: i wrote for a total of six hours today. six hours of fiction writing. but it's super top-secret and excruciatingly shameful. i've sunk so low.


but, whatever gets you back up on the horse, right?

I really, really want another chicken shwarma.

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I really want to know what chicken shwarma is.

reading that made my belly growl.

i didn't/can't vote today because i never registered in new york and i totally forgot to get an absentee ballot for massachusetts.

i feel like crap about it.

drive up there


i don't know.


voting's worth it.

i know voting's worth it. driving up there is not an option as i am working and don't have a car. i've already expressed my self-loathing on the issue, hence the confession.

*not a confession, just a comment*
driving up there? from NY to Boston?
Just to vote???

Isn't it like more than 200km?

*confession*
Would never go to vote if the place was farther than 10 km.

i didn't/can't vote today because i never registered in new york and i totally forgot to get an absentee ballot for massachusetts.

i feel like crap about it.

Same here -- only instead of states, different counties in New York. And I'm at school and I don't drive so I can't go home to vote. I sent in my absentee ballot application ONE day late. You'd think if they could send me a letter telling me I can't vote, a day after I sent the application, they'd be able to just send an absentee ballot instead of that "sorry, you can't vote unless you go home!" letter. But nooo...

I can't stop watching Nip/Tuck. This isn't good. I hate bloody shows.

drive up there


i don't know.


voting's worth it.

Chastising someone about their confession is not exactly within the spirit of the thread, methinks.

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There are some people I would like to just go poof and dissappear.

this is a really dark confession for me, anyway, and i understand that this thread is all about being supportive and whatnot, and theoretically no one is going to chew me out for it, but i can not handle a single comment about it, regardless of what the comment says. so whatever you happen to think about what i'm going to say, just don't even share it with me. please.


henry has to leave for work long before i do in the mornings. one day this week i got up early and went to the train platform (in the rain!) and stood under my umbrella at the place where henry always stands while waiting for the train, and turned and faced the only stairway so that i could watch every single person who came up to the platform. and i waited for him.

i waited for an hour before i finally got on a train myself and went to work.

i never saw him.

i found out later he had overslept that morning, and probably caught the train after mine.

i feel both relieved and cosmically gypped.

but above all, i feel CRAZY. this is the single most RIDICULOUS thing i have EVER done over a breakup. i don't know what happened. i walk by his house every day. or a bench we sat on. or a store we shopped at. this entire city has become him. henry and new york city are the same person.

i woke up an hour early one morning, independant of my alarm. and i just... snapped.

the worst part is, i have no idea what i wanted to happen after i planned on seeing him walk up the stairs. i have no idea what i wanted out of it.

I want to stay home and easy cheesy and chicken-y things for the rest or my life; also, I would enjoy spicy things.

My uncle wants to set me up with a nice young tall doctor and all I feel is dread. Not excitement. Not curiosity. And yet, just in case, I'm trying to figure out how to lose weight and get my skin cleared by Thanksgiving. Because the fact that I probably don't want him (any him) doesn't change the fact that I don't want him (hypothetical him) to not want me.

Despite the fact that my grandfather is 90, I sincerely enjoyed it when my Aunt and I beat him and my Uncle at Whist last night. Especially when I granded and we took 11 tricks. It made up for him beating me in cribbage.

Confession: I honestly wanted to win at cribbage, too.

I'd feel worse about those confessions if I didn't know what my extremely competitive edge and fierce love of winning card games wasn't a direct result of his genes.

Confession: I have found in the last few days that controlling my passive aggressive temper is even harder than controlling my aggressive-aggressive temper. And I don't want to. *pouts*

Myspace enabled me to have a relationship with my sister-in-law. Yes, myspace.

I've struggled over the past 3 years. I don't really think my in-laws like me. They love Brian's wife, but they don't like me. Now that my sis-in-law is on myspace, we've been able to talk pretty much every day and see each other on a whole different level, I think. We're friends now. I like that.

I don't like my friend's favorite non-department friend. She's funny and quirky and charming and very pretty and I seriously hate her. I can't stand people who talk about their "friends" behind their backs to total strangers, because it's like, how can you trust someone like that? Not that I'm totally gossip free, but mine generally also comes with a good degree of affection and is only told to people that I really trust -- not cruel humor for the sake of entertaining strangers.

So, yeah.

She makes me nervous and I wonder what she and my friend say about me behind my back. Because I'm paranoid like that.

Basically, I hate anyone who reminds me of people I hated in high school. Because the people in high school are responsible for my total paranoia.

Confession: I was that weird kid in high school.

No, not that weird kid. Weirder. Think weirder. Like, so much of a loner that she didn't even hang out with the other loners. Dressed funny. Not cool funny, not trendy and goth-y funny, just badly dressed funny. Pants too short and lots of random t-shirts that never looked clean. Completely socially awkward and eventually completely socially anxious. THAT weird kid. That's the one.

Confession: I've never really gotten over it.

Confession: I spike 6, 7, and 8 on the MMPI-2. In that order. Which I fought against originally but is actually pretty perfect. (6 = Paranoia scale, 7 = psychasthenia (anxiety) scale, 8 = schizophrenic/social isolation/alienation scale.

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Confession: I still check it every single time i'm on the computer. I can't help it.

Whenever I see a picture of someone, I compare myself to them. It makes me feel rather vain and shallow.

Confessions:
- I'm wearing my ex fiance's shirt.
- I just cursed to my mom while she was with my old priest. (Not AT my mom, more in frustration while sobbing talking to her about something)

Confessions:
I still want that tshirt back...
Along with other things
Somehow I feel as though getting those things back will mean I get to take myself back

I think taking myself back just might make me okay....just might make me sane...just might let me take my sanity back

And yet somehow, I don't think I'll ever get any of them...


Though we're not really dating, I already see her as better...relationship calibre-wise...than she was... I already see that though we may not fit as well, and though I may not have as much fun with her...I already see that I could be happier in a relationship with her...

Confession:
I'm trying to be strong, but I can't go a day without crying.
That last comment hurt, despite the fact that I know he said it in hopes to do exactly that.

Confession: It feels really weird to even try and support one side or the other, now that both are on. I'm not sure if it makes it better or worse that I don't know either of them all that well.