December 19, 2001 | 10:13 AM

I was just reading some of John's diary.

I feel weird doing it. I don't like doing it. I don't know if I'm going to read it anymore-- at least not for a really long time.

In his Diary (as in his life) I am consistently made out to be "No Rock 'n' Roll Fun". I never ever wanted to be someone's lame girlfriend. And congratulations to me-- that's just what I've become. That's the fucking sorry archetype I represent in the life of John.

And you know, it doesn't matter what I do or don't do, I am always going to be The Lame Girlfriend, and perhaps later I will have the supreme honor of being The Lame Wife. And it's never going to end. The 19 year old mini girlfriends who he consistently professes undying love and admiration for are always going to be the source of joy and I am always going to be lame lame lame.

Because I am a necesaary evil and they are luxurious self indulgent fun. I am like the Mom-- you have to have one but you don't like it.

He will always blow all of his money drinking and romancing the mini girlfriends who he isn't fucking, and I will always be told on Saturday "Gee, I don't have any money so if you want to hang out can you loan me 20 bucks?"

I am so confused. I'll think everything is cool, and then I catch a glimpse of how I am seen by John, how I fit into his life and it makes me so fucking pissed. It's like once he knows somebody cares for him really and is willing to be out on the line, he feels like he's won and thus doesn't need to put in any more effort.

I think he considers his lack of involvement and contempt for me a trade off for the fact that I leave my clothes all over the floor and use his towels.

Yeah, big fucking trade off.