Where I reveal I am not well

Ok.

So where do I even begin? Well, what's ironic about me writing a blog is that the only people who will read it (and even then, there's a good chance they won't!) are the ones who are forced to hear about my life in minute detail every single night. Being forced to not only listen to all my problems but now read about them as well is the ultimate in friendship, which is probably why I've only got like a grand total of three close friends.

But back to me.

I think I should begin by explaining that one year ago, blogging is something I would have sneered at. In fact, it was something I did sneer at. That was before I became frighteningly bored at work and had nothing to entertain myself with, nothing save the internet. And also, my original opinion on blogging was formed long before I knew jack-shit about myself (I still don't know much, but more on that later).

As I said previously, I thought blogs were the ultimate in narcissism and self-indulgence. But since that pretty much sums me up, I guess it's not surprising that here we are.

However, there are many reasons why I've decided to start up my very own blog. First of all, I am bored at work. Oh, so very, very bored. And I need something else to entertain me during the long hours that I spend here, besides simply watching dust float through the air and chipping polish off my fingernails. And while I do enjoy surfing the internet, there is only so much to read and/or look at. I mean, the gossip sites get pretty repetitive after a while and I'm at work, people. Porn isn't an option (JOKING!).

But the other reason I've started this up is because I'm a writer. Or at least I fancy myself one. Put it this way, you know how every 1st year science student at university thinks that he or she is going to be a doctor someday? Yeah, well, I was an English major which means that, yep, you guessed it. I'm obviously destined to be a novelist! But I'm just too lazy to actually sit down and write a whole book. So maybe this will discipline me or something. I don't know. It's a bull shit excuse I know, especially when we all know the truth is that I was just desperate for a new venue in which to draw attention to myself! ;)

But on a more truthful note, I do like writing stuff down. It helps me think. And yet writing by hand in a diary takes too long and is way too tedious. Hence, the joy in having a keyboard. The point is, I am going through a lot of shit right now and maybe writing it down will enlighten me and give me a chance to sort out my life. Who knows! It will at the very least provide my darling little Charkins with some very amateurish entertainment at work.

So about me a bit. Hmmm, not quite sure what to share, espeically since I haven't decided who I'm going to tell about this blog. So far only the boyfriend, who from here on in shall be referred to as "Adders", knows that I've made my first tentative step into the world of blogging. I actually like the idea of remaining anonymous so I can trash those people who I know in my everyday life online. But we shall see.

The basics about me are this, however: I am 24. And apparently I have no clue who I am. To help me clarify this point, let me explain. I have never owned anything of my own - a car, a house, anything. My vehicle was given to my when I turned 16 and at this point I am simply too broke to buy a house (besides, for most of my existence I have held the much misguided belief that my future husband would just show up to buy me my 1st home. Still hoping? Yes. Pathetic? Very). See, I am spoiled and I am not joking when I say this. I have been known to throw tantrums, I can be quite haughty and I have a ridiculous sense of self-entitlement (the moral of the story? Never let your 15 year old daughter wear Chanel makeup. It ruins her. Possibly for life). To stress to you just how spoiled I am, up until 6 months ago, the most excruciating experience I had been through was back-packing in Europe (easy now, Char! Down girl!). And nothing even bad happened there besides 2 horrific days in Barcelona (and by horrific I mean that it involved some rain and a few cockroaches).

People, this isn't a good thing. It has resulted in me, at 24, having the independence of a 14 year old. And lately, this has become a MAJOR ISSUE, one that has affected my relationships with every single person that is close with me.

But as they say, acknowledging that you have a problem is the first step to recovery. So here we go. No more spoiledness. But just to clarify, all that means is that I can't expect anyone else to bail me out or help me get through life. I must be independent! But it does not mean that I have to stop wearing Chanel foundation, because then life really might end for Courtney, and that would be tragic.

Right. Am going now. Until I publish again in, oh I don't know, about 4 minutes when I am bored to fucking tears. Tears. Fuck, as if I don't have enough to cry about already... Right. OK, as I'm fond of saying to everyone else but myself, Suck it up! Enough with the self-indulgence, CK!


Also? Just thought I would add a pic of me and Adders, if only because it makes me smile and I just think he is the cutest thing in the universe. This picture, btw, was taken on his 23rd BD last week. It was also taken with a $20 U.S. bill for reasons that are still unclear. It may be because at that point we were in a fit of depression since Adders was leaving to go home (we do long-distance) or it may be because we were high. Both options at this point are highly likely. Oh, how I jest.

P.S. Char? Would LOOOOOVE to have posted a pic of you too. Unfortunately, just realized? I have ZERO digital pics of us. None. And for reasons that are best left untold to the general internet public at this point (yeah, because already EVERYBODY on the internet is reading me!), I forgot my camera for the wedding on Saturday. Sigh. Just so everybody knows, Charkins is my best friend. And she's hott. Oh yeah, double T hot. As in Paris Hilton hott.

P.P.S. My blog's name? Only a certain roommate can fully understand the continuing hilarity of this title. And even she is probably scratching her head with confusion at this point, thinking, "God, I never thought it was THAT funny."