No song lyric for the subject today. Sorry, I'm lazy.

Warning: The first half of this is a summary of my weeklong trip of visiting people, but then it gets girly and I whine.

I'm back from NYC, Scarsdale, and the Hamptons.

NYC sucked because Eryn has become psycho. I was there to visit her since she's in the city for a month doing a ballet school thing, and apparently, around her ballet buddies, she has adopted a new name, "Lotsie." I was to call her that each and every time I wanted to get her attention. If anyone you've referred to as one name suddenly wishes to be called another name, wouldn't you expect the transition to take a little while? She didn't. When I accidently called her Eryn, she'd turn to me and FLIP OUT, yelling "THAT IS NOT MY NAME" and would proceed to not talk to me for an extended period of time. That was not fun. I was honestly wanting to shoot myself in the head by the second bout of receiving the silent treatment. Really, "Lotsie," you are not that cool. When someone goes five hours out of their way to visit, you don't make them feel like shit the whole time he or she is there. Esp. if you are the only person they know in a really big city. Fucker.

Scarsdale was alright, I was there to visit Dan, whom I met on a plane coming back from Argentina three years ago. Random, yes, but we've kept in contact so I figured, why not go visit. I was expecting Scarsdale to be pretty and have huge houses, but really, it looks exactly like the nicer parts of Cayuga Heights here in Ithaca. It just all costs a lot more. Ew he kissed me the first night and then the next morning and then the next night he wanted to hook up with me and I just was not into all that jazz. Oh and hey, turns out Dan and the kid I kissed at orientation for Buffalo are bitter rivals. I got an angry voicemail from the orientation kid saying something along the lines of "I HEARD THAT YOU HOOKED UP WITH DANNY." Yes! Just what I wanted! College drama before I'm even in college!

Not like I left high school early to escape all that shit, or anything.

So then I went back to NYC to go to Coney Island for the afternoon with Eryn (your name is NOT Lotsie, damnit). Cell phone + metro card + money was stolen from underneath my towel when I was in the water. Wasn't able to contact her when I got back into the city (she decided to stay a little later to ride some rides), so I was left sitting in her building hoping someone would let me use their cell so I could go up and get my suitcase from her room without missing my train. No such luck, I missed my train by exactly two minutes. I was bawling right in the middle of Penn Station, I honestly had no idea what to do without a phone and without any knowledge of which platforms the trains leave from, so I went to the MTA police office, mid-breakdown, since I honestly had no idea what to do with myself. They let me use the phone so I got in contact with Matt. I sounded so pathetic, I could barely talk through my disgustingly dramatic sobs.

I ended up taking another train two hours later, I arrived in Quogue (Hamptons) around 12:30am. I was there to visit Matt (refer to the entry on June 19). He hurt his back by the second day so we didn't get to do anything fun like we planned, such as wakeboarding and water skiing and going out on the boat in general. Fucker. His mom, brother, boss, wife of his boss, their three children, age 20, 17, and 15, and I went out to eat at a Japanese restaurant in Southampton. Matt used his fake ID to saki bomb with his boss (Strange, no?) (I LEARNED WHAT SAKI BOMBING IS). A guy nearby us who also saki bombed bought a round of saki bombing, so Matt, his boss, the guy, and the guy's 15 year old son all went at it. Matt tried to explain to me how prevalent alcohol was in the Hamptons, but that sight was what it took to convince me.

While Matt was being a counselor at a camp on the last morning I was there, I was packing up my stuff and looked for a pen to write something down. I found a pen, but it was underneath a note from another girl at Cornell... one that he said he dated before he started dating me in January.

About this girl: He claimed she was psychotic. Apparently, she tried to get my phone number from him so she could call me and be mean or something, and since she went to IHS, she also asked a bunch of IHS kids she is friends with about me. Those kids in turn told me she was fishing for info about me. I was definitely taken aback, but I figured since he said she was crazy, everything was done between them.

In the note, though, (and yes, I admit I read it), she just said something like "i can't wait to see you in january" (she is doing an internship in Signapore for some months) "and I included some pictures from formal". Lo and behold, the pictures were right next to the note. The pictures, and therefore the formal, were dated May 13th. MAY 13th. May 13th. MAY THIRTEENTH.

As in, exactly a week after we were intimate for the first time (I know, you probably didn't want to hear that) and three days before the night he left Ithaca, when we spent a couple of hours talkiing about how much we'd miss each other and such. As in, while we were still kind of, you know, enjoying each others company (being label-less is so hard when trying to refer to situations like this).

That was definitely a hit to the heart.

What the fuck?

I took a picture of one of the pictures so now whenever I get really sad about Matt, I can look at it and realize he's really, really not worth it.