You know I come here I read a shitload of diaries everyday, like this chick and the little rockstar and the lover and her guy and the girl who can wax poetic about mac and cheese or my lice infected protege and the guy who wears clothes from The Gap(j/k) or his friend who can't seem to keep her fish alive fish, my cousin, my friend who doesn't update enough, my other friend with the weight of the world on her shoulders, the happily married one the kindhearted LA artist, the Canadian lover and his dear friend Joey the artist creating my *new* template, this one whose story about the women in her family and the questions about male ancestry left me so speechless that I couldn't even bring myself to leave her a note, and so many more....so many, many more of you I read. And I agree with some stuff and I disagree with others but I feel like I belong.

And then I think about my life and what I write here and really I am just confused. Am I happy...I'm not unhappy, right? I mean sometimes I am unhappy and I try to forget about it.

I think I suck. And a week or so ago I had a conversation with friends and they asked me why I am unhappy. I told them, I don't feel like I am pretty; I'm not sure people like me and I'm not sure if I care if people like me; and I don't really know where I am going in my life and moreover, I don't know what I want to do if I don't do this and on top of all of this I have this question in my mind:

JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, WILL I EVER BE IN LOVE?!?

Everyone I know is boy crazy or girl crazy and wants to get laid and get married and pair off and reproduce and spend their life that with guy that we met maybe a year ago at a bar and to tell you the truth I was in that bar with that girl and we saw that guy at the same time and I didn't think he was anything special and I certainly didn't want to talk him, standing there all Abercrombie and Fitch in his plaid shirt and baseball cap....I wouldn't have picked him out in a crowd but SHE did and now they are picking out China together and I am just not sure if I am ever going to get it and recognize THAT GUY who is the one to go home with and go to bed with every night and want to hang out with and raise children with and I wonder:

WHAT IF HE'S NOT OUT THERE?

What if the one for me at the last minute decides he's gay? Seriously, like, imagine we are lined up as babies and God pairs us up and sends us out and MY partner later decides to use that free will we read about in the bible and be gay.

This would only happen to me.

Or, what if mine gets snared in some other girl's web and doesn't wait for me to catch up to him? Some girls, well, they are really pushy and I can't compete with that.

Or, what if mine is killed young. Oh that's terrible! What if the guy that is destined for me is killed on a freak plane crash? Or shot in a drive by. I mean these things happen!

Haven't you seen "The Sixth Sense?"

But my point is, what if I never fall in love? I mean, I'm 27 and I wouldn't consider any of my pseudo-relationships "love." Is there something wrong with me? All my friends tell me I am great and that they admire me and I'm so successful but you know what...maybe they just don't know!?!? Maybe this facade I've constructed is that good!

At this point, I'm not sure that I am even capable of saying the word love in a meaningful way.

And while I am thinking all of this in my head and not saying anything about it, I have a ton of shit going on with my friends and they ask me "Partygirl, do I look fat in this?" and "Partygirl, I hate my job, what should I do?" and "Partygirl, can you come over because I just had a fight with my BF?" or "Partygirl, can you call X for me?" or "Partygirl, what do you think if I do this?"

And I think, how am I the leading authority on everyone and everything except for my own, pathetic shitshow of a fucking life?

Do you ever wonder how I feel? Do you ever want to do something nice for me? Does it even for a FUCKING MILLISECOND strike you that I may not have a fucking minute to listen to your inane banter, your stupidity, your inconsequential questions when the question currently on my mind is whether or not I should end my life????

Not that I would, but I've thought it. Yes, I said it. I've thought it and so have you so don't sit there reading this thinking I am nutcase and feeling bad for me because we've all thought it. We just don't all do it.

I guess what it comes down to is that I compare myself to all of these amazing people around me and I don't really feel that amazing about myself. And I know that's wrong and I know if I think back I'm done some things that are usual...and even good. But I don't feel good or unusual or extraordinary.

And then I hear from someone I've e-ed with once and she writes to me out of the blue "You know, girl, you have a lot more than you give yourself credit for" and I wonder how she knows that but I decide not to question it because it means a lot coming from one of those people I read, who reminds me that life is filled with all sorts of questions and problems and uncertainties and wishes and disappointment. And the more I think about it, that's a damn nice thing to say to someone she hasn't met.

I wonder why any of you even read this banter when I am just a college educated, white girl who likes to have a good time and really hasn't had as tough a life as others who have suffered a loss or survived abuse or fought for their lives. I am not aspirational. My story doesn't evoke sympathy. At least the parts that I choose to tell you about, they are not tearjerkers. Not really.

And I remember some advice that I gave a friend the other night when she was counseling another friend to confront an authority figure in her life and all of the sudden I broke my silence and I screamed, right there in the bar, I screamed, "But you can't do that...you don't know what it's like to spend a lifetime trying to forget, NO! You don't know. You can imagine and you think about it and you are refeeding her all of that therapy shit that worked for you but you don't know what it's like to be hurt or to have a secret and to work EVERY DAY OF YOUR ENTIRE life to forget and you are asking her to go to that person and bring up a lifetime of forget. And I just think. I just think that is the most selfish thing I have ever heard of. And I won't condone it. Because you don't know."

So I guess the cat's out of the bag? Partygirl laid her cards on the table. So maybe you, like everyone else, thought I really had my shit together and now I've let you down.

I'm sorry if I've disappointed you.

There I go, apologizing again.

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