Fuck you, you shitty holiday!

I hate Valentine's day...and even if I had a boyfriend, I would still hate the holiday more, because I am not romantic. I hate this holiday most of all. I like conversation hearts, but that's all the fucking holiday has going for it.
In the spirit of my loneliness (Alex won't sleep with me because he doesn't want to jeopardize our friendship...hmmm) I put myself on that pathetic website where people all over America rate you on one bad photo (my photo is the one in this very blog) called "Hot or Not". Right now I'm rated a 6.8. I am surprised I would get such a high rating. I never thought myself of as "hot"...only as "not." You can also meet people...and many 'fine young men' have made inquiries on if i'll 'meet them.' The strange part is, most of them are in the military. What the fuck! Do I exude military army whorrishness just through my pose and stance? Did Johnny Garrison send out a memo to Fort Drum? True, they are kind of cute...but I think I'm done with Army guys. Well, we'll see what happens...maybe this is telling me something...that Alex is right. Me, Fort Drum, meatloaf in the oven, chatting on the phone, two children shuffling between my high heel shoes.
Anyway...my play is getting into full swing. I don't have a title...but I plan to incorporate my full life...with sub plots (Annie is actually real, living with Col. Havermeyer in California, where Annie is always disturbed how her husband is turning paler everyday and how he looks likes exactly like this young private named Johnny Garrison...) Alex is in it, Jesse, Braden, my therapist, my mother, the men of my past...the ideas of being watched by a character that isn't real...or is it? I plan to make this play the most fucked up thing I've written...I want the audience to see my confusion, my anger in what I'm trying to do...
sound obsessive?
you bet your bottom dollar!