This is goodbye.

This shall be my last entry. Those of you who know me well enough will know how to find me, and those of you who do not...well, maybe you'll figure out a way to find me.

It's been a fun year. But when the ends doesn't justify the means, and you have no time, energy or patience anymore, it's time to say goodbye and move on.

So that's what I'm doing here.

Thank you to those of you who have encouraged and supported me. I wish all of you the best of luck in whatever you do.

xoxox

Sydney

a letter...

I'm going to write you a letter because I don't want to send you 12billion text messages. And because I wouldn't actually send even just one text message. But, I lied. I'm going to tell a short story first. And by short story, I mean it probably won't be that short.

Once upon a time, there was a girl who became friends with a boy. He didn't exactly live close to the girl, but talking almost daily, the girl began to consider him a close friend despite the occasional disagreements between the two of them. The girl always made sure to answer his texts and trusted in him frequently. The girl made the mistake that so many girls have made before her and so many will make after her. She assumed the boy knew her. She assumed that he knew her better than "that". Girl was wrong. Girl said she didn't like something about an outfit boy sent her one day and boy got upset. Girl at first was like "whatever." But then, girl got to thinking of it. Girl was offended that he assumed she was as superficial as to care what boy was wearing.

(I'll switch to letter format now... enough of this girl and boy crapola)

How can you think I'm that superficial as to give a fuck what you wear?? I don't care what you wear. I don't care what any of the men or women in my life wear. I want people to be happy with who they are. And if dressing a certain way makes someone happy, who the hell am I to judge that?? Lovers, boyfriends, girlfriends, friends can wear whatever they want. I can't believe that you're going to not talk to me for over 2 weeks now because I didn't like your shorts. Really? While I'm flattered that apparently my opinion counts for something, I can't believe you'd really think that I would have a problem with your shorts. I don't like khakis. Who cares? The ex-security guard has worn khakis for YEARS and I still adore him. I just don't like them. Kind of like I don't like certain shapes of sunglasses, or bubble skirts, or vests. Do my friends wear those things? yes, they do. And they're still some of my best friends. Still my lovers. Still people who I care about.

I think what I hate most is that I actually miss talking to you but I feel so shamed that anyone could think that about me that I won't text you. I won't call you. I'll write because that's what I do. I'll get my frustrations out without saying a word directly to you. It hurt to think that I could possibly be so superficial, because if someone knows me so well, they can't be that wrong, can they? What did I do to be viewed as such? At one point, I cared what people wore, I cared what I wore, and you know what? I was miserable. I hated myself. I hated the people around me. I'm not that girl anymore. I haven't been her for years. You didn't know me then. Apparently you don't know me now. I'd rather surround myself with free spirits and people who think they're beautiful no matter what they wear, because that's where I am in my life. I don't care what you or anyone else thinks of my style (or often times, lack there of), because I don't care what your style is. Yea, there are things I don't like. But that just means I don't buy them or wear them. It's petty.

It's like all those months were for nothing. You want to know what a relationship (whether romantically or platonically) feels like? How about how one ends? That's the most memorable part. Someone always ends up hurt.

Not all that glitters is gold.

grumble grumble

Apparently people don't understand the line between friend and boyfriend. Let me define. Friend=someone whom I do not have romantic/sexual feelings towards, or if I do, we aren't on "that page" in our friendship. Boyfriend=ball & chain.

You sir, are not my boyfriend. Therefore sir, you do not have the right to act as if you are my protector when I'm in the club dancing with cute boys. You may not put your arms around my waist and kiss me. You may not act like you own me (even if you WERE my boyfriend, still unacceptable). You may not get upset when I leave the club with another guy. You are a friend. You aren't even a lover! You never have been and the way you're acting, you never will be. This is not high school. I'm working on year 5 since high school ended, so let's remember how far in the past that was and act accordingly, ok? thanks.

your friend,

Sydney

sex sex sex

I get paid to talk about sex. When I say I don't want to talk about sex, it'd be super awesome and cool if you'd respect that. Don't get me wrong, I love sex. But dude. I'm tired of talking about it!

"I love you" "stop lying to me" "what are you talking about"

I have absolutely no problem with being a booty call with the travel agent. No problem. Except when he feels the need to say "I love you" over and over again. Last night really takes the cake though. I was out at a couple parties that were next door to one another drinking and partying and enjoying boobs and boys, and having Jersey Shore want to be boys trying to pick me up (very unsuccessfully). I got home, had a very heart to heart conversation with the roommie, and laid down to sleep. At some point in the night, I had texted some folks "I'll give you a $1 and a BJ if you come pick me up so I don't have to drive while drunk..." anyway. The travel agent got that...several hours later. So he called me. And we had a weird 45 minute phone conversation. I wouldn't put him at the most intelligent person I know but he's definitely not the most unintelligent guy I've been with either. But, last night's phone conversation was weird. Really fucking weird. Anyway, it ended with me pulling into his driveway. The sex was... great the first time. Except he kept saying "I love you" and I kept saying to shut up and stop lying. The second time he called me his ex girlfriend of 7 years name.

The weird part is... I texted him today asked what the hell was up about him saying he loves me and calling me his ex's name and he didn't remember ANY of it. His exact words were "well, that at least starts to explain why I woke up naked..." I though I was drunk last night but holy hell. I at least remember everything. oh, I have to change his nickname. He's now the ex-travel agent. He got fired or quit or something. I don't particularly care.

Monday night I had actually gone out dancing with the roommate and a model friend, and we were at the club when the ex-travel agent texted me asking if I was at a specific club (I guess he facebook stalked me or something) and then said he was coming out. So. He showed up. I spent the first half hour ignoring him and drinking my free drinks and having my picture taken by the club photographer with the roommie and model. At some point, the ex-travel agent and I hit the dance floor, where I spent a good amount of time dancing and flirting with other guys. And then, come midnight, I left him standing on the dancefloor. Had a booty call meeting me at my house.

After the initial reconnection with him, I was worried that there would be this overwhelming desire for him. However, there isn't one. I don't want there to be one. I've realized recently that I have no desire for romance or a serious relationship. I don't have the time or energy or patience. I just straight up don't care. One of my guy friends was all "you're going to fall for him" and you know what? I knew the Monday after the ex-travel agent called that I wouldn't. Yes, I like him but no I don't like him in a way that I want to spend a good amount of time with him.

Anyway. I'm sick. You'd think that after having my tonsils removed that my throat wouldn't be killing me but no. It hurts. And I'm coughing like crazy. blah.