the leather jacket

today i cried because my mom wants to buy me a leather jacket for my birthday. i actually cried. now, it could have to do with the fact that i am awfully close to my period. but i think it also has to do with the fact that lately i feel like all i do is yell and scream and jump up and down declaring what i want, what i want to do, who i want to be, what i want to accomplish, what i need, what i expect--and i am rarely heard. i don't want a leather jacket. i am not a leather jacket kind of girl. and i am frustrated. i am definitely a frustrated kind of girl. so i cried. not in the spoiled-brat-i-want-two-ponies-not-just-one kind of way, but in the please-listen-to-my-words-and-don't-kill-a-cow-and-strap-it-to-my-body kind of way.

i wish i could rewind and replay last weekend. a week ago this very moment i was with my sarah. (sarah--today i watched a re-run of gilmore girls on tv and my jaw dropped as i realized that not only can we freakishly resemble paris hilton and nicole richie, but we are very gilmore girlish too. in concluding this, it made a little more sense why some people (okay, all that i know of) can feel a little overwhelmed in our presence: it would also be overwhelming to spend time with the mother and daughter duo.)

if i could, i would say: it's not worth it anymore. the ball is in your fucking court. this is me waving a white flag. why am i expected to return a phone call quickly but you can wait an entire week? the distance just isn't going to work. i can't count on you. i am tired of making excuses. if it was important to you, i would know it. you don't know me like you think you do. i will defend her all day, but i hate you for making me do it.

blah.

the last two days have been hard.