CHAPTER EIGHT
Date: February 10, 2005
Day: Thursday
Dear Diary,
Sometimes I want to kill my dad. Sometimes, meaning every day. He is always finding ways to pair me up with Chris. Not that I mind, of course. Today we had this whole autograph session together. We were both wearing shades. I was trying not to let him see my eyes. They were kind of puffy because I cried FOREVER last night after that kiss in the ring. I mean FOREVER. I didn't sleep much, lying there in the bed, thinking of him. Losing sleep over him. Wishing he was there, actually CRAVING a dose of his exclusive Vitamin C... Despite what I said earlier in the limo, Vitamin C is the only vitamin for me. It's essential for my existence. I don't know how I've managed to survive my whole life without having it.
I'm so stupid.
Did you know I slapped him TWICE in the limo? Twice! I wasn't even really offended by his words in the least. They just kind of bothered me because he was speaking the absolute truth, and it was turning me on. It's kind of ironic, really. I mean, what woman slaps a man twice in the face just because she wants him...and he knows it? A silly, stupid woman, that's my guess.
And that would be me.
I think it was so sweet the way he got all serious and told me that he liked me. It was like high school all over again. No, not high school. Maybe elementary school. I can't believe back then I thought that guys were "icky" and that they had "cooties". Boy was I wrong! Granted, some guys these days do have "cooties"-which, in adulthood, are synonymous with STDs. "STD"-see "Hunter Hearst Helmsley" in the dictionary. Yep, Hunter, he's a walking STD. Too bad I had to learn that the hard way when he cheated on me with Trash Stratus...
Note to self: Crabs are only fun if you're eating seafood. Anything other than that is just... Ew.
Thanks a lot, Hunter. You gave me PUBIC seafood. Bitch.
Ok, when did this become about my loser of an ex-husband? It's supposed to be about Chris. He's the man I want, definitely. But I don't know... I mean, I told him that I liked him and everything, and yet, I think he doesn't understand how much I really do. Of course, when I slap him and say rude things to him, that MIGHT just make him think that I don't like him. That I don't want him.
But I do.
A lot.
And now I have to prove it.
Starting on tomorrow morning, I'm going to prove to Chris Jericho that I really, really, REALLY like him! Hell, I might even tell him that I'm MADLY in love with him...
Heh. That's pushing it.
Until Next Time,
Steph
P.S. I MUST HAVE SOME VITAMIN C ASAP!