you know - "love song" by sara bareilles? i like that song. it's cute and fun to sing at the top of my lungs in my car. i'm a very good singer, just ask me.
anyway, everytime i hear it i am reminded of high school. i was a junior and was working as a waitress. long excruciating story cut short - i waited on a guy whom i'd never met that was ordering dinner, he then waited on me to get off of work outside by my car (creepy, i know, but i was 16 and thought it was sooo romantic.) so we talked for awhile and i learned that he was much older but had a sister that went to my high school. a couple of days later he had his sister come up to me at school and said "matt wants me to tell you that he wants a letter from you saying why you want to date him." (names have been changed to prevent probable throat-slitting, he turned out to be crazy)wtf? all i could do was laugh and tell her to tell him to get a life.
so we dated for 5 months. turns out he was just as douchy as one should have expected someone to be who is in their 20's asking a 16 yr old to write a love letter to them about why they are fabulous. who does that? he then proceeded to stalk me while we were dating. for realsies, complete with threatening phone calls, retarded ass threatening letters that were made by cutting out letters and words from magazines and pasting onto a peice of paper nailed to my tree's or put on my car while i was working or just at the store. the type of letter that only happens on tv - or in my life. the calls and letters would say how he was going to kill me in gross explicit detail and then the gross things he was going to do to my dead body. real nice, huh?
he also started saying that he was getting the letters and phone calls too and then took it a step further and got beat up. not once, not twice, but 4 times. by then my mother had the police involved and they came to get me out of school to take me to the hospital. i had ended things w/ psycho the week before b/c he also had a wicked anger problem. so, he was in the hospital because he had decided to beat the shit out of himself. someone found him along the road. car door open, beat up by a bat. the bat was in his hands - yes he had kicked his own ass and then passed out from hitting himself so hard in the head. and, obviously had kicked his own ass all the other times too. really? why does shit like this happen to me? i have TONS of weirdness like this in my life.
if you're still reading this, i apologise for the long and random story. here's my public service announcement - stay away from some dude now in his 30's that likes the group "colour me badd" and asks you to write him a letter explaining why you think he is hot and better than sliced bread. he'll cut you, or atleast mangle some magazine's to instill horror into your life for a couple of months.
on a side note - today is my husband's b-day!
and, sorry blog, i have been busy w/ school and work for the past 2 days and could not post. kindly remove those 3 lbs that i had lost that are now back. i'll be more diligent at posting.