Abandon me
May. 27th, 2007 04:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
impyIt's funny. I never thought of myself as a particularly jealous person. I mean, sure, I have my moments where it creeps up on me and then I realize that I'm being a little nuttier than usual, and while it doesn't immediately go away, I tend to find something else to fixate on and then it's okay.
I will cop to being more than a little nosy. Depending on my boredom levels and the odds of something truly interesting popping up, I've been known to snoop around when I know full well I shouldn't. Part of that is a masochistic streak a mile wide, and part of it is normal curiosity. I am exceptionally bored right now, but instead of singing off and doing something useful, I thought I'd check various people's journals. Because, again, nosy, remember?
So we check his and notice for the first time that either he knows more than one Starr, which is entirely possible, or it's the extremely infamous ex. So I peek. See masochistic streak. I should point out that I laughed untl I damn near cried when I was first told of her, and I still crack an evil grin anytime her name is mentioned in passing because it's usually followed by some variation of, "that whore." Which amuses me, because in addition to being masochistic, I'm also more than a little bitchy. At the same time, I'm also wary of her for assorted reasons, the least of which is this long winded, "Gee, I hope Impy isn't jealous or upset or something over something she might have seen over my shoulder" thing I found on the old computer one day when searching for some lost file. That was due to being nosy and reading an email over his shoulder that ended with something like "love ya" which, while a little vexing, isn't really anything to get worked up over. Being kind of elbowed out of the way and then finding two paragraphs or more that wax poetic about whether this bothered me or not, and if it did, perhaps it's because I had one little, itty bitty secret in my past and he was [at the time] still upset about being the other dude. Not my finest hour, yeah.
So. Snooping. Starr.
Curiosity gets the better of me and I clickity click, and he's commenting, still walking that strange fine line between being friendly and a bit too friendly. Last I heard, they weren't exactly on the best of terms, considering that whore seems to be more than a pet name. *cough* Anyway, seems I missed the update as he's inviting her to hang out with him. Fantabulous. So, that in mind, I peek at her "about me" and nearly die. I knew she was younger than me [as that was part of the hysterical laughter way back when] There are certain things a girl just never needs to know. Like, that anyone she would be attracted to would be attracted to someone who doesn't know her way around a keyboard, for one. Or that "to" and "too" are not interchangeable. Or that "lol" is not meant to be shoved sixty times into any given sentence. Sentences also end in something other than ........ Punctuation is our friend, even if I butcher it horribly on a daily basis, okay? She's one of those people you wish you could reach out and beat to a bloody pulp should you run into them online. What the hell?
Oi. Just oi.
I will cop to being more than a little nosy. Depending on my boredom levels and the odds of something truly interesting popping up, I've been known to snoop around when I know full well I shouldn't. Part of that is a masochistic streak a mile wide, and part of it is normal curiosity. I am exceptionally bored right now, but instead of singing off and doing something useful, I thought I'd check various people's journals. Because, again, nosy, remember?
So we check his and notice for the first time that either he knows more than one Starr, which is entirely possible, or it's the extremely infamous ex. So I peek. See masochistic streak. I should point out that I laughed untl I damn near cried when I was first told of her, and I still crack an evil grin anytime her name is mentioned in passing because it's usually followed by some variation of, "that whore." Which amuses me, because in addition to being masochistic, I'm also more than a little bitchy. At the same time, I'm also wary of her for assorted reasons, the least of which is this long winded, "Gee, I hope Impy isn't jealous or upset or something over something she might have seen over my shoulder" thing I found on the old computer one day when searching for some lost file. That was due to being nosy and reading an email over his shoulder that ended with something like "love ya" which, while a little vexing, isn't really anything to get worked up over. Being kind of elbowed out of the way and then finding two paragraphs or more that wax poetic about whether this bothered me or not, and if it did, perhaps it's because I had one little, itty bitty secret in my past and he was [at the time] still upset about being the other dude. Not my finest hour, yeah.
So. Snooping. Starr.
Curiosity gets the better of me and I clickity click, and he's commenting, still walking that strange fine line between being friendly and a bit too friendly. Last I heard, they weren't exactly on the best of terms, considering that whore seems to be more than a pet name. *cough* Anyway, seems I missed the update as he's inviting her to hang out with him. Fantabulous. So, that in mind, I peek at her "about me" and nearly die. I knew she was younger than me [as that was part of the hysterical laughter way back when] There are certain things a girl just never needs to know. Like, that anyone she would be attracted to would be attracted to someone who doesn't know her way around a keyboard, for one. Or that "to" and "too" are not interchangeable. Or that "lol" is not meant to be shoved sixty times into any given sentence. Sentences also end in something other than ........ Punctuation is our friend, even if I butcher it horribly on a daily basis, okay? She's one of those people you wish you could reach out and beat to a bloody pulp should you run into them online. What the hell?
Oi. Just oi.
