Well, here it is. My last entry.OK, well, it's not my last entry EVER.
OK, so it's not the dramatic exit I'm making it out to be. But still ... it'll be weird being gone for so long.
How long? I'm estimating anywhere from 1 month to 3 months. Turns out my parents decided they would get me a computer once I get myself a job and move out of my temporary "I-don't-wanna-sign-a-lease-until-I-start-getting-paychecks" miniscule bachelor apartment. And if I haven't gotten a job in London after 2 months of serious hunting, I'm going back to my Mommy in Toronto, damnit. But I WILL get a job, so nevermind that "what if" crap. I'm just saying, whatever happens, I'll be back online after a couple of months. Count on it.
So I'm moving out tomorrow. I can barely believe it. I don't know what more to say.
Oh, and I guess you've all noticed the one thing I never directly mentioned about this whole moving to London business. The fact that I just happen to be moving to the very same city The Boyfriend will be moving to. Well yeah. I am. It's not a coincidence. As much as I want it to seem like there's no connection there whatsoever, that Brendan living there is merely some sort of fluke-like bonus, that's totally NOT the case. Well, duh. I mean, it doesn't take a genius to figure that one out. But it's like this: Brendan's going away to London for that whole university edumuhcation thing. I live two hours and a $45 train ticket away from where he'll be (and that's not even a round-trip). This is not a favourable scenario. And then it's like this: I like the idea of getting my own apartment. I live in a city where the cheapest pads available are $700 and in less-than-ideal locations. If I moved to another city and found work (even minimum wage work), I could afford to rent an apartment, and a decent one at that. London is one of several options in Ontario. If I move to London, I am no longer in that unfavourable scenario where I have a boyfriend whom I never, ever see. And that's how it all fits together. Ta-da.
OK, so maybe the whole boyfriend moving thing is really what made me think of doing this. But so what? I wouldn't do it if it didn't otherwise make sense.
So THERE. Don't you dare argue with me. It's too late anyway, because I'm moving tomorrow. That's right. I win. Ha.
Why am I trying to defend myself anyway? Damnit, I need to chill. I mean, really. What do I care what anyone thinks?
Oh yeah ... I forgot. I do care about that shyte. But I'm going to pretend like I don't. Because I think it'll make me seem deceptively cooler. People will like me more if they think I don't care what they think. Yeah baby.
Am I irony personified or what? Admit it, you like it. I turn you on. You know it. Oh yeah.
Remember in those earlier entries how I used to go on about how ripe n' tasty I was? I was all mock-conceited and stuff? Yeah. I miss that. So I'm trying to be like that again. Because I was more fun then. I'm too whiney and serious now ... it's cramping my style. Seriously. Enough of that already. I'm too young and cute to be that stressed.
Funny how I say this just as I'm about to take on about a million adult responsibilities I've never had to deal with before. Fitting with the whole irony thing. But I don't care. Because I'm so cool I don't care what you think.
Well really, um, I'm leaving. So I'll return in a month, or two, or three. And you'd better not forget about me. I am not someone you can just FORGET. Not because I'm so fabulously memorable, but because I SAY you can't forget me. You're not allowed. I own some tiny section of all of your brains, and I'll bust my way into your dreams if I have to. Yeah, even the dirty ones. No, ESPECIALLY the dirty ones. And I get to be the busty stewardess. So there. In conclusion, I will not be forgotten. BahahahaHAHAHA.
Bye!
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� Ripe Tomato 2001-2005
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