OMG THAT WAS THE WORST MOVIE EVER IT WAS EVEN WORSE THAN THE SCORPION KING AND HALF THE PEOPLE IN THE AUDIENCE HAD NO IDEA WHY ME AND STEPH AND THE OLD MAN WERE LAUGHING AND LAUGHING AND LAUGHING OMG THAT WAS FUCKING HORRIBLE FULL STOP OMG HAHA HAAHHA A AHAHAHA IM SO GLAD WE DIDNT PAY ACTUAL MONEY TO GET IN OMG THAT WAS SO BAD.

The writer seemed to be confused about whether the folks in his world worshipped a “God” or “gods.” He was confused about when it was day and when it was night. Also, those were some of the most botoxed, siliconed peasant women I’ve ever seen. And really, could these actors phone in their dialogue any more unconvincingly?

Come on, people, this isn’t BloodRayne. YOU CAN DO IT.

Steph, the Old Man, and I giggled through the entire thing. When that Sorbinski chick suited up in plate armor for no particular plot-specific reason, Steph and I both lost it, and the guy two seats away was like, “WHY ARE THEY LAUGHING????”

OMG

Other folks laughed, sure, like when a botoxed, plasticy-faced Burt Reynolds shows up at King, but nobody appreciated the pure, shitty grotesquerie that was bad dialogue, bad costuming, bad actors, bad direction, bad cinematography, and just plain badness that was this movie.

IT WAS WORSE THAN THE SCORPION KING.

I never thought I’d say that.

I worked very hard not to invite the not-Boyfriend out with us tonight – he dropped me at Red Robin’s after we were done shooting – and I suppose it was just as well, cause I bumped into some folks from work. It’s my fault. I talk too loud. C and M, the IT “team lead” and our Spanish translator, respectively, were walking out of the same movie, which was ironic, because I was thinking there at the end that I would have to tell C on Monday not to see this show.

“I KNEW I heard your voice,” he said, as we approached.

Yes. Yes, that was me.

Loud and laughing. And quite proud of it.

Dinner, however, was fantastic. I decided I would spend insulin points tonight, and ate hamburger con queso and GARLIC PARMESAN FRIES and yes, I took 11 units of insulin at dinner, came home, tested at 244 four hours later, and just took another 6 units and set my alarm for 1am so I can correct again then in case it wasn’t enough.

See, this is why I don’t eat high-carb food often. It requires me to spend the next ten hours fixing it, and the next two or three days leveling off again as a result of the spike.

But, you know: it’s my birthday.

AND THOSE GARLIC FRIES OH THEY WERE GOOD.

Sucked not bringing along the not-Boyfriend. Sucked. Took every ounce of willpower I had not to invite him along, and Steph and the Old Man were shocked I didn’t break down and bring him. But if he wants it to be “just friends” then we need to hang out like “just friends.” No matter how much it hurts right now.

I need to keep that place in my heart for a real boyfriend, not a “not-Boyfriend.”

But it sucks, yo. Really, really sucks. Because I’ve got that hole in my heart again. It was like I said to him when we started dating, this stupidly cheesy thing, “There was this hole in my heart I didn’t realize was there until I met you, because now my heart is full.” Isn’t that total cheese? But man, so stupidly true.

Blah. The good news is that as time goes on, I’ll go back to not noticing that anything’s missing again. You get up. You go on. The alternative is to cry all over your shoes and give up, and what’s the fun in that?

We all need time. I’m a better person now than I was a year ago.

Still, you know: it’s no use loving someone who doesn’t love you.

So, yeah: chin up, young person.

Life goes on.

And tonight, there’s UT2K4.

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