Rachel.

Rachel called me again today. She called me to tell me our friendship needed to end because of the insulting comments left on my JOURNAL and because I was never around.

I've come to some very important conclusions today, two of which are going to save me a lot of grief in my future. The first is that I am no longer giving anyone my journal address, for no reason, what-so-ever. If you don't want to know what I really think of your fucked-up-ness, then don't COME.HERE.TO.READ.MY.FUCKING.JOURNAL. The second is that, I absolutely suck at a) calling people back and b) making plans to 'hang out.
'I'm not going to clarify my first point because it's already crystal fucking clear. The second however, may need some clarity. I do not like hanging out with people. It's a waste of my fucking time and unless I have a sincere interest in you, or want to see a movie, or think it would be fun to have a spell on the town because I'm in that sort of mood, I don't want to see you. I realise that this is selfish, but I have never denied that I am anything but a selfish girl.
I realise that I did none of these things with Rachel, but that was more or less because now, I have no time. What time I do have, is spent sleeping, eating, being with Andrew and investing in the future by saving my hard, earned Wal*Mart paycheck. So once again, even if I did have the time to hang out, I wouldn't have the coin to do it because I WORK AT WAL*MART.

I realise Rachel would be mad for reading what I wrote about her current situation. I realise that I'm a rude person and that most times I should just keep my mouth shut, but not on my FUCKING JOURNAL. I realise that I should be a little more understanding and try to calmly rationalise why I wrote what I wrote in a sympathetic and sincere sort of way, but these days, I just simply can't.
The days of my emotional sympthay are gone. There's a part of me that turns off when women berate me for doing them no good, and I blame that completely on my mother's two years of constant verbal battering. I hate when women go off the handle when they've caught themselves in an instance of pain and frustration. Calm the fuck down. Think about the situation. Validate your feelings and calmly confront them with an air of respect and dignity. Don't call me with a load of bullshit about how I'm the worst person in the world because I've failed you miserably. And please don't touch on my personal relationships with Josh and Andrew and how I'VE fucked them up so badly because of the drama in my life. There is no drama in my life, my life is dull and calm. I write about what I write about because those are the parts that are worth remembering.

FUCK. I HATE EVERYONE.

Anyway, she's left it in my hands to call her, "to save our friendship."

I hate ultimatums.