After spending two weekends bar hopping, I have fianlly stopped to ask myself a very important question-WHAT'S THE FUCKING POINT?

The whole purpose in going out, is because your life sucks, and you want to let loose and have a little fun. I usually am more depressed the day after, then before I went out.

It's all a stupid fucking game.

You never make an amazing connection with someone, or have an interesting conversation. There are no fireworks, or glitter haze memories.

It's all the same conversation:

What's your name?

How old are you?/where you from?

So what do you want to do when you leave here?

YUCK!

At the end of the night, all my money is gone, I've acted like a drunken fool, I feel like shit because there are 100 other girls hotter than me, and guys only hit on me after last call, when no other girl would agree to go home with him.

No Diva here.

It's so humbling. It totally reminds me how ordinary, insignificant, and forgettable I am.

So today I have been depressed and I have started making another self motivation book again.

I should have just stuck to what I have been doing for the last couple of months-surfing the web for Mark Wahlberg stuff. Fantasizng about him, and thinking about how wonderful of a person he is. He really is- checkthis out.

One good thing about last night: I gave a male stripper a ride home, and when Celeste went inside the gas station to use the bathroom, he insisted on giving me a kiss for the ride home, and was going to show me his goods, but I insisted that he didn't. hahaha! What a dork! next -- previous DISCLAIMER