Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Different Names for the Same Thing
Sorry, everyone. Once again, I've been incredibly awesome, and I've neglected letting you know what's been happening in the life of Caroline. Things are almost normal. I'm not going to lie. It was moderately awkward at first, but slowly, it's gotten back to its regular fashion. I still don't know how Patrick feels about me, but how the hell could I possibly ask for that right now? It's been 8 months since the day we met, (and if you do the math, that means I've let this journal go for an incredibly long time.) and at this point, I really can't see us being anything else for awhile. I say that, but Patrick always manages to surprise me. Peter and I just got back from lunch and an amazing shopping trip. Never go anywhere without a Peter Wentz, if at all possible. We talked about how everything was turning was turning out for us, and how it was the opposite of what our original plans were, because now that Patrick is around, I honestly rarely see Pete anymore. It's the worst feeling to, because he's sort of silently understood my feelings for Patrick, and at this rate, I can't exactly tell how he feels about them. But that's nothing to dwell on because that's a fucking up I don't need right now. AP has basically enslaved me. I spend hours upon hours a day in front of a computer, and I've contracted this horrible fear that my eyeballs are going to fall out. It's kind of a reoccurring dream. It's terrifying. Really.
Pete's been doing at least somewhat well, it seems, and he was more than happy to take me on a shopping adventure. He kind of likes to pick out my clothes. It's totally weird. Patrick says he can recognize my cycle of clothing, and considering I spend most of my time with him, Pete was sure that this was a sign that I needed new clothes.
So here I am, post shopping extravaganza. Here's how it happened.
"Shit. I'm full." I held my stomach and slumped down in my seat, which was the passenger side of Pete's car.
"Does Patrick even spend the night at your place?" I've sort of resigned myself to these conversations. The guys have a train of thought as steady as my own, so I usually just give them the answers they're looking for, and let it go.
"Dude basically has his own room. Don't worry, though. I wouldn't let him touch the room you claimed when I moved in." Peter smiled. Does anyone realize how good a genuine Peter smile is?
"The reason I ask is because I'm kind of thinking about moving out. I've been looking for an apartment for awhile now, but as often as I'm actually home, I can't think of a more convenient arrangement, for me at least, then just moving in with you." He seemed kind of nervous. I couldn't blame him, though, because this really was a huge thing to be asking me.
"I'll pay some of the rent...if you want me to." I laughed.
"Peter, as often as you'd actually be there, I couldn't possibly make you do that. If you want to live with me, I want you to live with me. That way, I can kick your ass daily at galaxy saving. And we all know I will."
"So you're going to let me move in?" I don't think he'd expected me to say yes.
"Yeah, but don't bring all of your shit. I seriously don't have enough room." Pete looked confused.
"Why?"
"Because Patrick brought all of his shit, and it's seriously everywhere."
"Wait. Patrick lives with you too?"
"No, but more if his stuff is at my house than his. Isn't that sad?" Pete didn't say anything. Then he spoke.
"At least now I'm guaranteed to see you more than once every couple of weeks."
"Not necessarily. When you guys were recording, I barely saw any of you. And of course, you're gone more than half of the year. And I'll probably have to go home for thanksgiving and Christmas."
"I thought Patrick invited you to his family's thanksgiving." Pete looked at me like I should have known what he was talking about. I didn't. As we pulled into the parking lot, it hit him. "I really don't think I was supposed to tell you that." I just laughed.
"Oh well. I can act like I haven't heard anything." Pete and I entered the mall, and quickly began browsing through stores.
"Since we're pretty much on the subject of Patrick, how's that progressing?" He always had to know.
"It's not. It would be weird to even try after everything that's happened. I might be the only one of us who feels that way, but it's still the way I feel. Anyway, I need a new coat. Which coat should I get?" Pete stopped, looked around, and found what he was looking for. Peter had chosen a navy blue corduroy pea coat with a moderately high collar. He handed me something else.
"The scarf goes with it." It was pretty much the most amazing coat I'd ever seen. But when I looked at the price tag, my lungs collapsed.
"Peter, it's a jillion dollars. Get it away from me." He grabbed my wrist.
"Come on, let's go pay."
"Peter. It's a jillion dollars. Seriously, get it away from me. I don't want to spend that kind of money on a coat."
"Well, I will. Happy almost-Thanksgiving, and thanks for letting me live with you." He made a good point, and I really liked that coat. As the day progressed, I found myself owning six new shirts, 2 dresses, and 2 pairs of shoes. I didn't buy any jeans, though. With Peter moving in, I didn't see the point. I'd just steal all of his.
"When are you going to tell Patrick how you feel?" Kid really couldn't let it go. The ride back to my apartment had been completely silent, until then.
""Peter, seriously. Get off it. I can't yet. Who knows if I ever will? Unless he does something, I'm definitely not." Pete really seemed upset with me.
"You're going to miss out. You both are. You should probably stop being stupid about each other. Any day now, would be good." I just laughed. I knew he was right, but that wasn't a risk I was willing to take, and Patrick definitely wasn't a person I was willing to lose. We finally arrived at my apartment, and Pete helped carry my bags inside.
"When are you planning on moving your stiff over here?"
"I don't know. I've got a shitload to do with Decaydance before we leave for L.A., so it's really hard to say." I wasn't going to push it, so I handed him a key (which, in retrospect, I never should have done again) and hugged him.
"Don't worry about it. Take your time. I won't push you. You're not my bitch. Patrick is."
"Oh, thank you." I turned around to see a groggy looking Patrick standing in the hall way.
"No problem. Put some clothes on and I'll order food." He nodded and walked back into his quasi-bedroom. Pete put his jacket on, and began towards the door. I followed.
"Call me later, I guess." He scratched the back of his neck. Does anyone else think Pete's being weird?
"Don't worry. I don't sleep well unless I do." He kissed my forehead, and left. I sat in the living room flipping through, and eventually, off, take-out menus. I couldn't decide what to eat, and right as I was about to give up, Patrick walked out freshly-showered and hatless.
"Shop much?" He asked, looking through my bags. He held up a shirt and laughed.
"Pete picked this out." I nodded. He knows Pete did, because the shirt was moderately fashionable, and that's a choice he knows I can't make by myself. He threw the shirt at me.
"What did you order? I'm fucking starving." I shrugged.
"I haven't really ordered anything yet. You order. Make sure you don't use that incredibly eloquent language. I'll be back in about thirty minutes. I've got shit that needs to be done."
"Can't you just relax?" I sighed. He had no idea how badly I wanted to. My time management has gone to shit.
"Thirty minutes, Patrick." And now, I'm sitting here in my office. Patrick has left and returned in the time I've been sitting here typing this, so I assume I've exceeded my thirty minutes. I'm pretty fucking starving myself, though, so I'm going to eat. I'll be with you all later.
Pete's been doing at least somewhat well, it seems, and he was more than happy to take me on a shopping adventure. He kind of likes to pick out my clothes. It's totally weird. Patrick says he can recognize my cycle of clothing, and considering I spend most of my time with him, Pete was sure that this was a sign that I needed new clothes.
So here I am, post shopping extravaganza. Here's how it happened.
"Shit. I'm full." I held my stomach and slumped down in my seat, which was the passenger side of Pete's car.
"Does Patrick even spend the night at your place?" I've sort of resigned myself to these conversations. The guys have a train of thought as steady as my own, so I usually just give them the answers they're looking for, and let it go.
"Dude basically has his own room. Don't worry, though. I wouldn't let him touch the room you claimed when I moved in." Peter smiled. Does anyone realize how good a genuine Peter smile is?
"The reason I ask is because I'm kind of thinking about moving out. I've been looking for an apartment for awhile now, but as often as I'm actually home, I can't think of a more convenient arrangement, for me at least, then just moving in with you." He seemed kind of nervous. I couldn't blame him, though, because this really was a huge thing to be asking me.
"I'll pay some of the rent...if you want me to." I laughed.
"Peter, as often as you'd actually be there, I couldn't possibly make you do that. If you want to live with me, I want you to live with me. That way, I can kick your ass daily at galaxy saving. And we all know I will."
"So you're going to let me move in?" I don't think he'd expected me to say yes.
"Yeah, but don't bring all of your shit. I seriously don't have enough room." Pete looked confused.
"Why?"
"Because Patrick brought all of his shit, and it's seriously everywhere."
"Wait. Patrick lives with you too?"
"No, but more if his stuff is at my house than his. Isn't that sad?" Pete didn't say anything. Then he spoke.
"At least now I'm guaranteed to see you more than once every couple of weeks."
"Not necessarily. When you guys were recording, I barely saw any of you. And of course, you're gone more than half of the year. And I'll probably have to go home for thanksgiving and Christmas."
"I thought Patrick invited you to his family's thanksgiving." Pete looked at me like I should have known what he was talking about. I didn't. As we pulled into the parking lot, it hit him. "I really don't think I was supposed to tell you that." I just laughed.
"Oh well. I can act like I haven't heard anything." Pete and I entered the mall, and quickly began browsing through stores.
"Since we're pretty much on the subject of Patrick, how's that progressing?" He always had to know.
"It's not. It would be weird to even try after everything that's happened. I might be the only one of us who feels that way, but it's still the way I feel. Anyway, I need a new coat. Which coat should I get?" Pete stopped, looked around, and found what he was looking for. Peter had chosen a navy blue corduroy pea coat with a moderately high collar. He handed me something else.
"The scarf goes with it." It was pretty much the most amazing coat I'd ever seen. But when I looked at the price tag, my lungs collapsed.
"Peter, it's a jillion dollars. Get it away from me." He grabbed my wrist.
"Come on, let's go pay."
"Peter. It's a jillion dollars. Seriously, get it away from me. I don't want to spend that kind of money on a coat."
"Well, I will. Happy almost-Thanksgiving, and thanks for letting me live with you." He made a good point, and I really liked that coat. As the day progressed, I found myself owning six new shirts, 2 dresses, and 2 pairs of shoes. I didn't buy any jeans, though. With Peter moving in, I didn't see the point. I'd just steal all of his.
"When are you going to tell Patrick how you feel?" Kid really couldn't let it go. The ride back to my apartment had been completely silent, until then.
""Peter, seriously. Get off it. I can't yet. Who knows if I ever will? Unless he does something, I'm definitely not." Pete really seemed upset with me.
"You're going to miss out. You both are. You should probably stop being stupid about each other. Any day now, would be good." I just laughed. I knew he was right, but that wasn't a risk I was willing to take, and Patrick definitely wasn't a person I was willing to lose. We finally arrived at my apartment, and Pete helped carry my bags inside.
"When are you planning on moving your stiff over here?"
"I don't know. I've got a shitload to do with Decaydance before we leave for L.A., so it's really hard to say." I wasn't going to push it, so I handed him a key (which, in retrospect, I never should have done again) and hugged him.
"Don't worry about it. Take your time. I won't push you. You're not my bitch. Patrick is."
"Oh, thank you." I turned around to see a groggy looking Patrick standing in the hall way.
"No problem. Put some clothes on and I'll order food." He nodded and walked back into his quasi-bedroom. Pete put his jacket on, and began towards the door. I followed.
"Call me later, I guess." He scratched the back of his neck. Does anyone else think Pete's being weird?
"Don't worry. I don't sleep well unless I do." He kissed my forehead, and left. I sat in the living room flipping through, and eventually, off, take-out menus. I couldn't decide what to eat, and right as I was about to give up, Patrick walked out freshly-showered and hatless.
"Shop much?" He asked, looking through my bags. He held up a shirt and laughed.
"Pete picked this out." I nodded. He knows Pete did, because the shirt was moderately fashionable, and that's a choice he knows I can't make by myself. He threw the shirt at me.
"What did you order? I'm fucking starving." I shrugged.
"I haven't really ordered anything yet. You order. Make sure you don't use that incredibly eloquent language. I'll be back in about thirty minutes. I've got shit that needs to be done."
"Can't you just relax?" I sighed. He had no idea how badly I wanted to. My time management has gone to shit.
"Thirty minutes, Patrick." And now, I'm sitting here in my office. Patrick has left and returned in the time I've been sitting here typing this, so I assume I've exceeded my thirty minutes. I'm pretty fucking starving myself, though, so I'm going to eat. I'll be with you all later.
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