When I counted up my demons,
I found there was one for every day,
With the good ones on my shoulder,
I drove the other ones away.

Such a nice little Coldplay lyric. Today is my final ode to Andrew.

It has been quite obvious how I've harbored such resentment towards him. And today, I got over it.

My math midterm was tonight. Andrew, originally, was in my math class. I thought he dropped out because he's not been to one single solitary class since the first day. Well, he could have come to a few, actually, because I think I skip one in three math classes. Well, I walked into Zimmer and sat against the wall, and I just happened to glance over, and he was right there. Initially, I felt extremely angry, very nauseated, and really gittery. I kept getting out stuff to do. For instance, I made out my entire calendar of events for November and outlined my discussion section I had to write for my lab report for Psychology. I started playing this game with myself in which I'd look at him, kind of hoping he was looking at me...but still didn't see me looking at him. Of the probably 100 times total during the course of the night that I looked at him, he never even looked at me once. He looks exactly the same. My hair's shorter, and I was maybe five pounds thinner from the excitement and, thus, weight-shedding of having a boyfriend. Anyway, I have rewritten the rest of this journal entry 4 times now, so hopefully this one will make the cut....I was just thinking that I'm so goddamned sick of being angry at him and playing this whole "Ooh, he took advantage of me. Ooh, I'm a poor victim. Ooh poor me!" role. I think it was Jessica the other day who was telling me about the whole, "People don't make you upset. You make you upset" motto, basically saying that everything in this life is about your attitude. (Which is probably a good translation of the "Pain is an illusion" Tool lyric.) In me and Andrew's relationship-thingy, things were handled in ways that they should not have been handled in, between the both of us. I was a really wussy, lacking-a-backbone, alter-ego of myself. And I'd like to think that he wasn't himself either. But I'm damned strong now because of that little week fling. I don't take shit from men anymore. And to be quite honest, Andrew probably isn't the bad guy I've made him out to be. Had weird shit not gone down, I'd even be his friend. But as for now, I've forgiven him, and I've forgiven myself (whom I think I was more mad at), and I will smile at him and say "Hi" if we make eye contact in math class...if he ever goes. = ) As Sociology teachers says continuously, "We have to reframe things." I have reframed the way I see our relationship, and I am no longer upset.

It's so scary how some people just have to share the same DNA. There's this guy in my math class who decided to talk to me today...nothing major. He just asked me how to read the funky seating chart the teacher put on the overhead projector. But I'd always kind of noticed him in class because he reminds me a lot of John, except with kind of gross hair, like the dude off 7th Heaven. Yet his hair is kind of good, too...I can never decide! Anyway, today I found he has the exact voice and way of speaking that John does! So John, if you're reading this, you have a long-lost brother. He kind of looks like he could be in a Brit-Pop band. = )

I have given up on my mom. Ruth and I always have big long talks about her. She takes no active role in our lives. She knows nothing about the classes I'm taking...she won't take the time to educate herself on any of the stuff I stand for, she forgets all the details of what's going on in my life. For a long time I thought it was Alsheimer's. But my other sister, Rose, said that she thinks mom's memory is going away because of lack of mental stimulation. And while that's really funny-sounding, I wouldn't doubt it if she's right. Mom doesn't care about anything unless it's something that directly affects her. I'm so, so incredibly hurt. I didn't realize how hurt I was about it until (laugh if you will) I watched Oprah. Every Tuesday she has on these majorly serious episodes. And Dr. Phil was saying that whatever you don't get from your parents, you shouldn't be ashamed to get from yourself. I have no idea how I'd be able to "give myself" what she doesn't give me. But, thinking about it, maybe I already do. I think one product of my lack of mother figure (and father figure, I guess, though I really wouldn't know what having a father figure would feel like) is that I tend to depend on my friends a little too much. I ask too much from them and want them to give me things that I don't know if they're capable of giving me. But, anyway, Dr. Phil said, "We're not saying these feelings are good or bad. But you have to acknowledge they're there." And I have. He also recommends that you talk to your parent about the feelings. I've tried...she gets defensive and starts her "You don't love me" stuff. Why do I still want a mother when I'm 20 years old? Though Ruth wants her even more than I do, and she's 31 (I think). Our family is full of so many unsatisfied, needy people. Sigh.

Anyway, I do so need to sleep. I have to be up in 3 1/2 hours. I successfully wrote another Psychology paper in considerably less time. I'm an old pro now. = ) Goodnite.

<~~~