Friday, July 27, 2001
Thursday, July 26, 2001
I am the emotional, whirling dervish, oscillating wildly 'tween rapture and despair, giggles and fits.
I hate being an emotional roller-coaster - rickety-crick-creak, rickety-crick-creak as the rusty red rollercoaster car climbs the first incline, the wheels grasping weakly - desperately to the rails
(the boyfriend leaves for work - the roomate leaves for work, it's me and the cats again - I feel like a mother seeing her kids off to school then turning to face an empty & lonely house - no remnants of feeling of "home" remain. Fuck the gym today I think - I'm just not in the mood, I start the laundry, make the bed, do the dishes *naked if that makes it less boring*, when all is done I notice how the quiet floods in from every corner - the tv snaps on with the press of my thumb - angry teenage girls - from periods to prostitution - shit, not in the mood for this...gym clothes go on and I'm out the door)
- rickety-creak-crick-clap, rickety-crick-creak the rollercoaster car halts, stalls, then lunges down the hill of iron and wood, the wheels scream - "I can hold on" and metal slips on metal, as sparks dance
(I get to the gym, I hit the bike and pound my legs, sweath pours forth, a "by chance" conversation with an old friend spotted while we crunch against inflatable balls. I tell him my story and he offers words that are chosen and wise - I believe they call it "advice". I feel exhilirated, I feel bold, I want to race back into the day.)
- clap-grip-clap-steel, rickety-crick-creak the rollercoaster car grabs hold and shakes the steel, pulling up the tracks, grunt-grunt-grunt.
(A call placed to my old employer. The fake motherly bitch from HR - "Oh so good to hear from me, oh how am I, oh how they miss me" - what?? "Oh no dear we haven't got your final check, Oh no we weren't doing that to the end of the month, Oh you know things are tough here at the agency to, Oh I don't think we owe you for that much vacation time". My blood boils, my eyes could bore holes. The boyfriend calls - I want to be understood - I want to be heard - I want some sweetness - his timing is bad - not his fault. )
- wooooooooooosh, the rollercoaster trembles-jerks-flails as it tears down the rails - the sparks, turn to flames. The rollercoaster is on fire.
I hate being an emotional roller-coaster - rickety-crick-creak, rickety-crick-creak as the rusty red rollercoaster car climbs the first incline, the wheels grasping weakly - desperately to the rails
(the boyfriend leaves for work - the roomate leaves for work, it's me and the cats again - I feel like a mother seeing her kids off to school then turning to face an empty & lonely house - no remnants of feeling of "home" remain. Fuck the gym today I think - I'm just not in the mood, I start the laundry, make the bed, do the dishes *naked if that makes it less boring*, when all is done I notice how the quiet floods in from every corner - the tv snaps on with the press of my thumb - angry teenage girls - from periods to prostitution - shit, not in the mood for this...gym clothes go on and I'm out the door)
- rickety-creak-crick-clap, rickety-crick-creak the rollercoaster car halts, stalls, then lunges down the hill of iron and wood, the wheels scream - "I can hold on" and metal slips on metal, as sparks dance
(I get to the gym, I hit the bike and pound my legs, sweath pours forth, a "by chance" conversation with an old friend spotted while we crunch against inflatable balls. I tell him my story and he offers words that are chosen and wise - I believe they call it "advice". I feel exhilirated, I feel bold, I want to race back into the day.)
- clap-grip-clap-steel, rickety-crick-creak the rollercoaster car grabs hold and shakes the steel, pulling up the tracks, grunt-grunt-grunt.
(A call placed to my old employer. The fake motherly bitch from HR - "Oh so good to hear from me, oh how am I, oh how they miss me" - what?? "Oh no dear we haven't got your final check, Oh no we weren't doing that to the end of the month, Oh you know things are tough here at the agency to, Oh I don't think we owe you for that much vacation time". My blood boils, my eyes could bore holes. The boyfriend calls - I want to be understood - I want to be heard - I want some sweetness - his timing is bad - not his fault. )
- wooooooooooosh, the rollercoaster trembles-jerks-flails as it tears down the rails - the sparks, turn to flames. The rollercoaster is on fire.
Wednesday, July 25, 2001
ok - the look of my site has got to change - sooooooon. I just am screwed if I try to do any coding on my boyfriends computer (can you believe 24MB of RAM ???? Thank god the man has everything else going for him). I have a domain reserved and could just move the all site over to it, but I'm just kinda apathetic about taking on the project. Actually that's kind of a lie - it's more than apathetic - it's like this feeling where everytime I tell myself to just start the project with the intention of finishing it - my whole body just involuntarily does this squirming thing (since I no longer have medical coverage I feel I should avoid these seizures as much as possible).
So Lucky's at school and the roomate is MIA or BOMC (Back of Milk Carton), perhaps I'll add him to my new take off on "www.amihotornot.com" that I've been talking about in the side bars, called: http://www.amimissingornot.com
I'm bored, really bored. I could read. I could call friends. I've already jerked off twice. I just - aw shit, here comes that seizure again....
I was never this lazy, I just don't feel like being holed up in the house by myself, and well, a year has passed - it's not like there is anyone I can just call up and say "Hey - you wanna go have coffee with me and discuss, well - me". I'm looking for a break-through conversation, a slap my ass and call me sonny epithany, a lightbulb that bursts above my head and showers sparks deep into my soul, anyone got the time - the right words - a strong spanking hand ???
So Lucky's at school and the roomate is MIA or BOMC (Back of Milk Carton), perhaps I'll add him to my new take off on "www.amihotornot.com" that I've been talking about in the side bars, called: http://www.amimissingornot.com
I'm bored, really bored. I could read. I could call friends. I've already jerked off twice. I just - aw shit, here comes that seizure again....
I was never this lazy, I just don't feel like being holed up in the house by myself, and well, a year has passed - it's not like there is anyone I can just call up and say "Hey - you wanna go have coffee with me and discuss, well - me". I'm looking for a break-through conversation, a slap my ass and call me sonny epithany, a lightbulb that bursts above my head and showers sparks deep into my soul, anyone got the time - the right words - a strong spanking hand ???
Tuesday, July 24, 2001
et-i-quette\ 'e-ti-ket\ n. : the forms prescribed by custom or authority to be observed in social, official, or professional life. (synonyms: proprietary, decorum, decency, diginity
Perhaps it's how we are raised, or even more so, maybe it's who we "chose" to be in later life - but I find my move back to be an interesting lesson in etiquette and behavior.
Why do people who know me socially feel a need to comment on my move back to AZ with such clever statements as "Why would you do something so stupid?", why do people neglect to celebrate with my boyfriend and I the very significant and life changing decision to move in together (I deem it as extremely important and not an everyday occurence - I mean I would have gotten a friend in this situation a card to celebrate this big step in their life with the person they loved) and why do people strike a coorelation between "unemployed" and "free time". I feel busier than ever, try looking for a job in today's economy and see how much of your time it absorbs (add on to that packing up and moving 2,000 miles then moving in and there's no time left) - but I have had several people ask me - "Well what do you do all day??"
In light of this I am beginning the list of the follow prepared responses:
I sort through "your" garbage - and I am shocked.
Prepare for my walk-on role on "The Nanny" - what it's not on the air anymore - bastards ! That's why they haven't returned my calls.
Chase my tail in circles.
Watch porn, lot's of porn. heh-heh.
Masturbate - frequently. (often paired with the above response when the person responds - "no, really?"
Drink rubbing alcohol with my old gal-pal Kitty Dukakis - fill'er up sistah!
Contemplate my navel
I have rewritten "Little Women" to include more sex, drugs and references to shower-nozzle masturbation.
Watch "Where Are They Now" segments praying for more news on lovable TV star, Tina Yothers.
Play "Where's Chandra?"
Rewrite history - we now own Sweden lock, stock and barrell.
Perhaps it's how we are raised, or even more so, maybe it's who we "chose" to be in later life - but I find my move back to be an interesting lesson in etiquette and behavior.
Why do people who know me socially feel a need to comment on my move back to AZ with such clever statements as "Why would you do something so stupid?", why do people neglect to celebrate with my boyfriend and I the very significant and life changing decision to move in together (I deem it as extremely important and not an everyday occurence - I mean I would have gotten a friend in this situation a card to celebrate this big step in their life with the person they loved) and why do people strike a coorelation between "unemployed" and "free time". I feel busier than ever, try looking for a job in today's economy and see how much of your time it absorbs (add on to that packing up and moving 2,000 miles then moving in and there's no time left) - but I have had several people ask me - "Well what do you do all day??"
In light of this I am beginning the list of the follow prepared responses:
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