I think after the shit escapade, I took a nap until Jordan arrived. I think we went and drove around–I really don’t remember. Oh yeah, I think we drove down to Pacific Shores and fucked. The next day I think–I don’t remember what I did, but it couldn’t have been too productive. Oh yeah, my dad and I drove around, to town and then to ray’s food place and then to Fred Meyer’s and back. It was fun. After that I think I did something and then Jordan dragged me to Royce’s without telling me that we were going to attempt to stay the night there. I wore my contacts (big mistake) and of course around two they started to hurt and I learned that we weren’t leaving. Goddamn him. That really pissed me off. He put on some porn for a bunch of hours and had this long, involved sex conversation with Royce and his friend that REALLY fucking pissed me off. I was very tired and hadn’t planned on staying. I’d planned on getting home around eleven or twelve, reading for a few hours, and going to sleep. I was and still am pissed about the whole goddamned episode. He kept feeling me up and like trying to get me to have sex with him, and I was all no, I’m tired–but he just kept doing it. I started to get really pissed, but ended up fucking him anyway. He didn’t want to use a condom, which really made me question his bullshit about “I always use a condom.” Whatever. It’s his body. Anyway, I fluctuated between pissed off and very pissed off until we left the next morning. He wants to hang out tonight. No. I’m sick of his crap. I need one goddamn day a week to myself. If he can’t fucking deal with that, then fuck him. I’m sorry. I get really angry when people take over my life. Ashley called today when I was half-asleep. I told her that I couldn’t talk to her any more. Oh yeah, yesterday I spent hours burning Molly a 2-cd set. I was playing it for Jordan and he liked it so I burned a copy of it for him too. I’m really tired so I think I’m going to go to sleep. I don’t think I would have been such an ass last night if I wasn’t in such a state. I can’t eat crunchy things without excruciating pain, my feet are always cold and wet–I’m really reaching my shit tolerance point. I’m reaching the point where I’ll throw a shit fit. Whatever. I’m going to sleep, I’m almost comatose.