Okay, so this is my life from last week:
Friday, since I had a minimum day due to finals, Brad and I were supposed to get together, but he wasn't feeling well. I was upset that I couldn't see him again, but I decided that we could get together sometime during the coming weekend--so no big deal, yes? Huh. You'd think that, wouldn't you?
Sunday rolls around ('cause we had decided to meet then), and he's all set to leave, when a fight between a female friend of his and her live-in boyfriend finds itself in his driveway, blocking his car. They're doing the whole "fight" thing, he's doing the "hiding in his house talking to the person he should be driving out to see" thing, and I'm doing the "this is un-fucking-believable" thing. Oh, but it gets better! I convince him to go out and basically say "Look, this is your fight, not mine, so why don't you take this out of my driveway, because I have things to do," and soon after, they leave. However, the former live-in b/f returns and just sits out in the front of Brad's house again. After a few minutes of thinking that the guy was psycho, Brad observes that he was actually quite distraught about the "breakup", and so (Brad being the nice guy he is) , Brad goes out and offers the poor man a cup of coffee and a shoulder to cry on, for lack of a better term. Eventually, it turns out that the guy had a LOT to talk about, and the "former" g/f had ended up at Brad's place, so Brad loaned them a part of the house for them to talk out their differences in while he chatted with me on the phone. We decided to get together on Monday (as I didn't have school and all), chat for a while more, solidify our "Monday" plans, and go on with our lives.
So then Monday happens. Brad's all ready to leave, and we're going to meet (miraculously) before 3:00. I go to the park next to my complex with a picnic basket (so we could both eat *and* see a movie), paper, pencils, all that sort of stuff I always bring with me everywhere, as well as a blanket to sit on when we go picnicing. Then I get a call from Brad, saying that he had had severe brake trouble while leaving his house, and he wouldn't be able to get down to see me that day. Well, you can bet your ass that by that point, I was incredibly, deeply upset. Three times--THREE TIMES he and I were supposed to get together in four days, and THREE TIMES he had had to cancel on me. No, I wasn't pleased, not in the least--and the pidgeon shitting on me didn't make things any easier, either. *Then* I get the call from Brad, the call where he told me what had *caused* the brake trouble to begin with. "Christyna, call me back. Oh, my gods, I am so pissed off," was the jist of his message. So I call him, and remember that guy I was telling you about from Sunday, who went back to Brad's house, and Brad and I thought that he was being all psycho? WELL, HE WAS!!! The guy, thinking that Brad and the guy's g/f were having an affair, had returned to stick a screwdriver into Brad's brakes and break the metal part off in them!!!!!! Brad didn't find out until the female called and told him not to go driving, not to use the car, because the brakes were fucked up and he'd kill himself. Everything got resolved, of course--Psycho and the Girlfriend paid for Brad's repairs, Brad's buddy at the Pep Boys fucked with Psycho's head (to some very amusing ends, I assure you), and Brad and I decided to try and get together sometime *this* weekend. However, he's not sure that we'll be able to do something this weekend, because his life is getting all stressful again, and he's sure that at the last minute, something'll pop up and keep us from getting together again. I think he's just inviting fate.
As for me...... Well dude, when have I ever *had* a life???
Be good, don't die
Ciao for now
-Chii-chan
)O(
Friday, since I had a minimum day due to finals, Brad and I were supposed to get together, but he wasn't feeling well. I was upset that I couldn't see him again, but I decided that we could get together sometime during the coming weekend--so no big deal, yes? Huh. You'd think that, wouldn't you?
Sunday rolls around ('cause we had decided to meet then), and he's all set to leave, when a fight between a female friend of his and her live-in boyfriend finds itself in his driveway, blocking his car. They're doing the whole "fight" thing, he's doing the "hiding in his house talking to the person he should be driving out to see" thing, and I'm doing the "this is un-fucking-believable" thing. Oh, but it gets better! I convince him to go out and basically say "Look, this is your fight, not mine, so why don't you take this out of my driveway, because I have things to do," and soon after, they leave. However, the former live-in b/f returns and just sits out in the front of Brad's house again. After a few minutes of thinking that the guy was psycho, Brad observes that he was actually quite distraught about the "breakup", and so (Brad being the nice guy he is) , Brad goes out and offers the poor man a cup of coffee and a shoulder to cry on, for lack of a better term. Eventually, it turns out that the guy had a LOT to talk about, and the "former" g/f had ended up at Brad's place, so Brad loaned them a part of the house for them to talk out their differences in while he chatted with me on the phone. We decided to get together on Monday (as I didn't have school and all), chat for a while more, solidify our "Monday" plans, and go on with our lives.
So then Monday happens. Brad's all ready to leave, and we're going to meet (miraculously) before 3:00. I go to the park next to my complex with a picnic basket (so we could both eat *and* see a movie), paper, pencils, all that sort of stuff I always bring with me everywhere, as well as a blanket to sit on when we go picnicing. Then I get a call from Brad, saying that he had had severe brake trouble while leaving his house, and he wouldn't be able to get down to see me that day. Well, you can bet your ass that by that point, I was incredibly, deeply upset. Three times--THREE TIMES he and I were supposed to get together in four days, and THREE TIMES he had had to cancel on me. No, I wasn't pleased, not in the least--and the pidgeon shitting on me didn't make things any easier, either. *Then* I get the call from Brad, the call where he told me what had *caused* the brake trouble to begin with. "Christyna, call me back. Oh, my gods, I am so pissed off," was the jist of his message. So I call him, and remember that guy I was telling you about from Sunday, who went back to Brad's house, and Brad and I thought that he was being all psycho? WELL, HE WAS!!! The guy, thinking that Brad and the guy's g/f were having an affair, had returned to stick a screwdriver into Brad's brakes and break the metal part off in them!!!!!! Brad didn't find out until the female called and told him not to go driving, not to use the car, because the brakes were fucked up and he'd kill himself. Everything got resolved, of course--Psycho and the Girlfriend paid for Brad's repairs, Brad's buddy at the Pep Boys fucked with Psycho's head (to some very amusing ends, I assure you), and Brad and I decided to try and get together sometime *this* weekend. However, he's not sure that we'll be able to do something this weekend, because his life is getting all stressful again, and he's sure that at the last minute, something'll pop up and keep us from getting together again. I think he's just inviting fate.
As for me...... Well dude, when have I ever *had* a life???
Be good, don't die
Ciao for now
-Chii-chan
)O(
