Sex dreams, bitchy sisters, and a whole lot of lovin'

-Let's start with the bitchy sister part and get that over and done with. This is not a whiney, she's-a-bitch-to-me-just-like-her-god-forsaken-mother-so-feel-sorry-for-me-while-i-cry-myself-to-sleep post. This is a Ha!-I-called-bullshit-on-you-and-now-you-know-how-it-feels post. To sum it up: my mother is evil, and my little sister is her evil clone built to destroy me. And my 'little sister', I mean younger than me, taller than me, and old enough to be tried as an adult if she ever did successfully murder me. I don't feel like getting into the whole sob story of what happened tonight to piss me off, but let's just say my sister was being her usual bitchy self. And my parents, of course, did not try to stop her. What am I saying? They actually sided with her. Whatever. My point is that payback can be a bitch. A bigger bitch than a mere 17 yr old can be, that's for sure. So I'm NOT taking my sister to see Hillary Duff [gah! what a relief!] as previously planned, and I'm definitely NOT taking her with me to see Black Eyed Peas [cause honestly, I don't wanna deal with her attitude]. I'm slowly beginning to let myself accept that there are negative people in the world, and that not everyone shares my beliefs of thou shall be civil to people who are nice to you. I shouldn't let people take advantage of my time and caring like I've done in the past. I should just chalk it up to them being narrow minded and selfish, and move on with my day. But mess with the bull, and you get the horns. Mess with DaMasta, and they might have to rely on dental records to identify the body.

-I think pot makes me dream craaaazy dreams. It could have been induced by stress, or the chinese food, or the fact that I don't sleep with pillows... but I'm pretty sure it was just the drugs. I got toked on Friday night and Saturday night and got drunk on both nights and I proceeded to have the weirdest series of crazy-ass dreams I've ever had. There were old white doods with big wing-wongs, government space crafts, Secret Lover Boys in grave danger, men barking in the middle of the street, explosions and gun-fire, and bright lights and fast cars. At one point, I was telling myself that this was just a dream and to go for broke and try to disarm the bomb. But it exploded, and because it was MY dream, I hid just in time, and I didn't explode. Anywhoo, I woke up completely dazed and confused, and it took me a long while and a cold shower to realize that it was just a dream. You ever have a dream where you're actually exhausted and hungover? Well, it's not as much fun as you'd think it would be. Surprisingly enough.

-I'm in love. Still. The most wonderful love you can imagine. But I'm still dating. Confusing, no? Yeah, confuses the fuck out of me every day. But honestly, I couldn't be happier, and I'm just living one day at a time and appreciating the fact that I have a very special friend who understands and loves me no matter what. [This is the part where you gag because I'm being so sentimental.] Oh, and The Pilot can go to hell. That's all I will say about that. No need to console. I barely even remember his name. The Ex is a strange one. I still don't know what he meant by that text message. I didn't know that "we" were still in love and that "we" should be together. I guess he just needs to move on. I will give him space for that. Secret Lover Boy is still around. He's progressing as a human being, but still no where near a 'real' man. He has good bedside manners, though, and I like the companionship.

That's it for now. Wow, this post was hella long.