It's rough to be disliked, but as I always say, there's no rule that says you have to like anybody. Anycertainbody, I mean. You don't even have to have a reason, if you don't want. And if you're civil and polite in public, and never make a big stink, then there's nothing I can say. But it still stings a little bit, I still want to know why, and yet maybe also don't want to know? It's none of my business. But it's still a bummer.
Am I being rude lately? Too abrupt? I used to love talking on the phone and now I can't really stand it. I get distracted. I'm in it until the first searching-around-for-something-to-say, and then I want out. Which, in my opinion, should be okay. Last night I was talking to my friend Jason from Nerd Camp, with whom I haven't spoken since . . . hmm, 1992 maybe? 1993? And we talked and it was cool and then it was 11:20 and we'd been talking for 25-30 minutes and I had just gotten home from a long drive and I wanted to get settled and ready for bed so I said I was going to go and he said okay and didn't sound upset or anything and I was so grateful, I hate being made to feel guilty about that sort of thing. I will get together with Jason and maybe Ill over a few drinks and we will catch up, that will be eight million times better than a phone conversation.
Or if I'm out. Or have company. I hate when people talk on the phone when I'm hanging out with them, I think it's rude, but I guess that's pretty standard.
My computer's still broken, folks. Still. It's been three or four weeks and I'm getting increasingly frustrated and miserable about it. I feel helpless, and that's my least favorite feeling in the whole entire world, helplessness. I want to just buy a new one but 1) I can't afford it and 2) I probably don't really need to. I just wish it would work again. Mitch has been on the case and doing research and seeking consultation and I appreciate all the work he's been doing on my behalf, but it's so frustrating that it's my computer and I have no idea what's going on. The other day I was trying to get some music to play because I had thought that my WinAmp would at least work but it wasn't and people were chiding me in a friendly manner and I snapped at them because I try to lighten up about it but I just can't. It's so frustrating, have I made that clear yet? Also people are always like "well what's wrong?" and like an ignoramus I have to actually tell them that I don't know which makes me feel irresponsible and stupid, and then if they're a computer person they try to offer advice, even though I just told them that I don't know what's wrong with it, and that makes me want to hit them or start crying. Maybe both, sih-multaneously. I'm going to try not to think about it right now.
I went up to Rochester with my mom to visit my brother this weekend and I met his girlfriend and went to a frat party and there are a lot of things I want to talk about in that regard, but I'm feeling so down and the weekend was so nice and I don't want to get those sentiments mixed up in each other because I think the blues will win, so I'll leave it for when I'm feeling better.
I have no work and Wojo left so now I have nothing to do, only this time I feel guilty about it.
So rather than paying for my car myself, I pay my dad. The explanation for this is long and boring and depressing, but please take my word for it that this was NOT my idea and I am NOT happy about it. (Notice, however, that I am not unhappy about it enough to have insisted I pay it in full. Not that I could afford to). I had, in fact, my first-ever can't-stop-crying panic attack when I found out that the car wouldn't be in my name. Man, my dad offered to stay over that night because he didn't know what to do, sleep on my floor, and I just looked at him and thought "that wouldn't help at all." I love my dad and think he is a good and nice and smart and funny man, but his presence alone would do nothing to comfort me. My mom, maybe, but not my dad. Poor Dad. Anyway, so as a result I'm paying WAY less per month than it is actually costing. My lease is up in December. And I'm so torn between being grateful for my dad for easing my financial burden, and resentful for doing so without me asking, and now leaving me quite incapable of affording a comparable car this time around. I could never afford the true price of the lease and insurance, not with the way I have arranged my life. I hate how I make a very decent salary, and still struggle to live on it. I live beyond my means and it makes me sick, there are so many people who make less than I do and have REAL problems, whereas mine are made up and still cause me stress. I really fucking disgust myself.
It is way too early in the week for PMS, I don't know what the fuck is up with me. Maybe the chilly weather?
To lighten up this entry, I will regale you with a tale of what a psychotic weirdo my cat is. Because nobody isn't entertained by cat stories!!!1
Last night I was getting into bed but Henry was in the way of where I would swing my legs, so I pushed him off the bed because it was easier, I knew, then pushing him into the center where he could turn around and nip me. So I pushed him off, turned to my side and lay down, and he jumped up again. I heard him sitting on the bed right behind my head, I could hear him breathing. I lay there for a minute and it didn't sound like he had laid down, so I turned halfway to look up at him, and sure enough, he was just sitting up, looking at me, breathing on me. Weirdo. I turn back and close my eyes. A moment or two later he leaps over my body so that he's in front of me. I realize that I've been gone for three days, and home for two hours, and I haven't pet the poor guy yet. So I start petting him a few times, he's all staticky. And he's moving around and liking it. Then I put my hand down on the bed. He sniffs it, then bites it, hard, but sustained. And lets go and jumps off the bed, because he knows it's wrong. I just roll my eyes and go to sleep. What a weirdo.
To further lighten things up, here are the lyrics to King Missile's "The Cheesecake Truck":
So then I got this idea about driving a cheesecake truck,
Because I figured at the end of the day I could take some of the leftover cheesecakes home,
And I love cheesecake.
So I went to the cheesecake company,
And they asked me if I could drive a truck,
And I said yes and they said you're hired.
So the next day I got in the truck with all the cheesecakes,
And I drove about a block and I just had to have a cheesecake.
So I pulled over and I opened the trunk and I got a cheesecake,
And I also took one for later,
And I took one for my friend Farmboy,
And I took one to bring home,
And by that time I had eaten one of the cheesecakes.
So I took another one.
Then I figured I might as well stop at my house to drop off all the cheesecakes.
So I take five cakes to eat on the way,
And I drive another block and a half to my house.
Now it's lunchtime so I eat ten cheesecakes and a cheesecake for dessert.
I should point out by the way that all of these cheesecakes were very delicious.
Anyway, I decided that the only thing to do would be to eat all the rest of the cheesecakes and hide the truck somewhere and leave town.
And I miss everybody a lot,
But I'm not really sorry,
Because they were very delicious cheesecakes.
Here's more about music. Last night I was listening to "All This Useless Beauty" by Elvis Costello, whilst in the car. It's a nice song and I like it and I listened to it four or five times and paid lots of attention but I still am not 100% sure I know exactly what he means. When I was in Seattle Eric said "listen to this song" and put it on the stereo and even though I'm not very good at that and don't think I can grok a song from one listen, I tried very hard and said it was nice, but if I *still* can't really figure out what he means, I don't feel badly for not getting it first time through. The only thing I'm sure of is that it's about some chick who is with someone who isn't worth it? Maybe? I think. But anyway, as I was driving home and deciding that this was mostly what it's about (but I feel like I'm missing subtleties here, or something), I also decided that I didn't feel sorry for this woman at all, and wasn't sure if I was supposed to. But I sure don't. If he's not good enough she never should have married him in the first place, and if he turned out later to not live up to her expectations then she should have left him. Sorry man, but no sympathy for her whatsoever. I don't know. I've made this stupid and self-centered and depressing again.
Here, look, a thousand lame cliche formula sitcom plots has occurred in real life. Next thing you know, someone in real life will be hiding a secret and their friend will say "I know what's going on!" and the first person will admit the horrible secret and the second person will say that they were referring to something stupid and benign, but now they know this awful secret.