Let's just sum up my life:

I spend my days e-mailing a foreigner whom I have never met, yet have been e-mailing for 5 months now.

I have recently met a guy, who as Gingi put it, is my personal twin separated at birth. The catch? He calls me out on all of my shit. Using my own terminology. If this were happening to anyone else, trust me, it would be funny. However, it's happening to me and I find it completely irritating and yet magnetizing. I can't make heads or tails of any of it.

This weekend, a friend tried to set me up with another friend. Can you say, disaster? I can. The guy ended up being 1) completely bombed, 2) a doppleganger personality-wise for every guy I've ever befriended (ie - a drunken idiot) and 3) decided he liked someone else at the party.

This situation actually was laughable. In fact, as it unfolded, I actually found myself laughing out loud at certain points of the night as my friends scrambled to bridge this gap between said guy and me. They even at one point, pushed him out on the porch to talk to me and locked the door.

I found that amusing. The whole situation was retarded.

My male twin called me retarded last week. Actually, he called me a number of things, but retarded is currently ringing in my head. I forget now, why he called me retarded, but I think it had someone to do with me announcing that the jury was out on him. It's true, the jury *is* out on him.

There's also a guy on a backburner. He's on a low simmer, but will be brought up to a saute after the New Year.

Right now, the Partygirl needs a serious break. Friends, boys, work - it's all crazy.

Tomorrow, I'm heading home. This too could be disasterous, as I have been contacted by some long lost high school friends for a get together tomorrow night in our hometown. I haven't seen anyone in more than 5 years.

After that, my plans are to hide out at my summer place. remove myself from the equation for a few days and forget about this entire insane month.

I found out on Friday night, that last Saturday - or more specifically last Sunday morning - I had apparently bent down to kiss a canvas sneaker that a friend was wearing because I wanted to leave a lip print, and actually fell backwards down a flight of stairs, landing at the bottom on a concrete landing and hitting the wall.

One would think, in THEORY, that one would recall falling down a flight of stairs and hitting a wall, but apparently, that is not the case.

I find the idea of myself literally hitting a concrete wall around 6:30AM an ironic metaphor for my life.

Now that she brings it up, I do remember falling down the stairs.

It's really a good thing I don't bruise.

As I am re-reading this, I am really hoping I never met anyone that reads my diary. It all sounds completely appalling. I am the only person who has things like this happening to her?

I've been falling down stairs since I was a kid. I am a known stair terrorist. I think I must not pay attention. When I was around 3, I took such a bad spill down some concrete stairs that my father was afraid to take me out for a week because he thought he was going to be accused of child abuse.

St. Patrick's Day 1992, I fell down two flights of stairs at my brother's place and landed with my gin and tonic upright, not a sip spilled.

Also in 1992, I slipped down a flight of concrete stairs at college house party. That one really hurt.

In 1993, I decided to go "indoor skiing" at one of the off-campus houses. I took a cushion off the couch and started at the top of the stairs and slid down until I crashed into the wall.

Halloween 1996, I fell down a flight of concrete stairs in my apartment building on the way to work and had to get x-rayed. Just twisted my ankle and hardly any bruising. No one could figure it out. Nothing broken and no bruises.

That's why the Jackass phenomenon kills me. I've got a lifetime of marketable stunts. I need to get PAID. I've been giving this shit away for years.

I really am retarded. I just can't believe that guy called me out on it.

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