Derpdre

iliveatgoodwill — Wed, 30 Jan 2013 21:01:47 GMT

I wish I could stop being so sad.

iliveatgoodwill — Sat, 26 Jan 2013 10:16:46 GMT

And... none of my roommates are talking to me. Great.

Here we go again.

iliveatgoodwill — Fri, 25 Jan 2013 23:21:30 GMT

I've only used this journal once to air my grievances, and now here's another story for you all two of you who read this blog.

Long story short: I live in France and I'm currently an English teaching assistant in one high school and one middle school. I live with three other assistants, and Italian, a Spaniard, and a Brit.

The Brit, let's call her Ella, criticizes EVERYTHING I do, like I'm some sort of second-class citizen or American redneck scum. Tonight, a bunch of us assistants in the area got together and had dinner and drinks. I finished a wine bottle; Ella pointed out that it was the Irish assistant's wine and that I should have asked her before finishing. I finally snapped, albeit tipsy, telling her, "You think I can't do anything right, can you? You think I'm some sort of mentally challenged inbred, don't you?" The others around me said, "Derp, it's no big deal. Calm down." I dismissed myself to my bathroom, where I immediately bawled my eyes out. I couldn't come back to the party with mascara rolling down my face. I didn't want to embarrass myself any further (I hate being *that* girl at a party), so I wiped the tears off my face, took a few deep breaths, and marched back into the room where the others were. I told them I was feeling tired and decided to go to bed (complete fucking lie. This was about 20 minutes ago as of this writing). I'm pretty sure all of them knew I left because I was upset, but I honestly felt about as welcome as a black man at a KKK rally in that moment. Regardless, they all said their goodbyes, but interesting enough, Ella was the only one who didn't say, "Good night." or "Sleep well." Psh.

It's been extremely difficult for me, ever since I was really little, to make friends. I keep asking the girls I live with if there's something wrong with me that prevents them from wanting to hang out with me, and they all say, "No, no. It's all in your head." But, to be quite honest, I think there really is something wrong with me. Like, I know it's shitty to have that one person that isn't involved in your plans because all of you hate them and purposefully exclude them, but jeez, if you don't like someone just tell them.

First post... it only took six years.

iliveatgoodwill — Mon, 25 Jun 2012 20:21:03 GMT

I've had this lj for... six years now? And I'm actually now just writing in it. Go figure. I just wanted to get something off my chest, but felt that if I posted any of this on Facebook, I'd be seen as an attention whore. I also have Tumblr, but I'd rather use that for funny pictures than my personal problems. So, as I don't have any friends on here, I felt this was the best place to do it. And isn't the point of a diary being that no one reads it?

Today is my 22nd birthday. This is what I learned today:
+ It's okay to spend money if it's your birthday (or money you received for Christmas).
+ ALWAYS check amazon.com before buying anything in a brick and mortar store.
+ Wanting Indian food on a Monday is like wanting Chick-fil-a on a Sunday. It ain't gonna happen.

If anyone decides to read this, let me tell you that I have general anxiety disorder. Among other things, I have a horrible fear of spending money on things that I don't need for survival. I decided to go to Barnes and Noble to get Rick Steves' Best of Europe 2012 (I'm moving to France in October). On top of that purchase, I also bought a planner and Rocko's Modern Life Season One on DVD. The total was about $68. Yes, I knew it was my birthday, but I felt absolutely horrible about buying them. I almost had a panic attack in the store-- my throat constricted, I felt dizzy and overwhelmed in the Travel section. There were too many options, and I didn't want to spend a ton of money on books that wouldn't fit in my suitcase.

To add onto that episode, I ran myself ragged around town trying to find an Indian restaurant that was open. I tried the two I knew of and two that Urbanspoon led me to... all of them were closed. This would probably just piss someone off, but me, I wanted to cry. So that's what I did when I got home after settling on a Japanese restaurant. It was the straw that broke the camel's back.

Well, I've taken a Xanax, and hopefully after a nice cup of tea, I'll be in order for rehearsal and then Brave tonight.