Old Me: Now, a song like "Touch Me, I'm Dick" is about... what?

The absolute randomness of all this is fascinating. The lack of depth (I start talking about peer pressure and then notice that I need to "do my nails") is, um, too familiar?  

I'm getting psyched about Thanksgiving already.  I think it's strange how no one else but us makes a big deal about Thanksgiving.  But not everyone else has 7 brothers and sisters.  We always make a big deal about Thanksgiving.  We all go to my brother David's since he has the biggest house.  It's a big deal anyway.  [Blah, blah, blah.]

I want to write about you-know-who again.  It's pretty sad that that's the only thing I can ever think to write about.  I called him last night but it wasn't very eventful. We didn't get to talk about much important stuff.  He just went on and on about what it is about him that nobody likes.  [And that's not about me so: not important.]  How am I  supposed to tell him when I don't think there is anything wrong with him.  So my mission for the day is to ask people what it is about him that's so bad.  His attitude maybe.  But I don't know what he's like in school this year since I don't have any classes with him.  From what I can tell he seems to be somewhat improving. [Lulz.]

I want to know when I get to come over his house.  I really, really want to see the boy wonder at home.  (Sounds like a good idea for a picture of some sort.)  [What?]  But it seems pretty rude of me to just ask him when I can come over.  I'm hoping to bring him to church with me eventually (within the next 6 weeks anyway [that's arbitrary]).  I also want him to read some of the stuff I've written in here about him.  Maybe we can do something Sunday.  But what I really want is for him to go to see the movie "Singles" with me.  But I don't really have a way to get there from here unless I beg.  I'll start working on it.

I don't get it.  "A Perfect Day for Bananafish."  What was this guy?  He sounds like a child molester.  And is this bananafish what everybody's thinking it is?  I'm glad he killed himself.  He was a very sick person.  I liked the story overall.  [Wow.]  Sounds just like something J.D. Salinger would write.  Isn't this Seymour Glass the same one who had killed himself in Franny and Zooey?

I think our relationship is in serious decline but the thing is I really don't mind.  I really hate to say it but I'm beginning to see Dave like everyone else does now.  I wish it didn't have to be this way.

I wonder if I really am considered mean sometimes.  [Yes.  I still am.]  I wish I hadn't said that, I don't want to have to explain it.  I'm beginning a depression.  I know what's causing it though.  I can never avoid it.  [PMS?]  I'm experiencing terrible feelings of guilt right now, guilt about Dave and about Sarah.  I still haven't called her.  I feel soooo bad.

I asked Jamie to say hi to Dave.  I hope he's here.  After little serious thought [so does that mean... should there be an "a" in there? or "some serious thought"?] I've concluded that I don't want to lose him (as a friend) I don't know what to do!  And I don't know what it is about us that makes us fight so much, well not get along anyway.

I'm so terribly bored.  I've got nothing to do.  I really should call Sarah.  All I've been doing is going to school.  That's pretty damn boring and I'm just a totally hopeless thing.  And I'm tired.  Very, very tired.  Why doesn't school start at 1 o'clock i' the afternoon?  I could probably make it then.  And we could get out around 7:30 p.m.  That would be dandy.

I really miss summer.  I had a darling summer.  Absolutely darling.  I miss the beach.  We would go there almost every week.  I miss that.  [God.  I still miss that.]

I'm making absolutely no sense whatsoever because I'm so tired I'm brain dead.  [I would like to point out that these last few paragraphs sound no different than anything else I had written, effectively nulling the tired argument.]

I wish it was friday.  I thought it was this morning.  But alas, it's only Thursday.  One day away from Friday, but Thursday all the same.  What a tragedy.

I don't know why but it irritates the hell out of me when I write stupid stuff like I just did.  April's afraid that if I go over Dave's house he'll molest me.  I just laughed.  She says his hair is pee color.  (Yes, as in urine.)  Ain't it grand?  (Rhetorical quest.)

What was I supposed to answer for Dave?  I know "why?" had to be part of it.  But why what?

Last night we went to see "Singles."  It was alright.  Nothing really memorable about it.  It was good but not that good.  [Zing!]  But overall I guess I had fun.  (I guess? -- What's that mean?)  I did have fun.  I had more fun in the car after the movie, [don't get too excited] but I always have fun listening to the radio in a car.  That's really bizarre IMO.  [I don't disagree.]  My mom's really strange about this whole thing.  But you're not allowed to have friends in my family anyway.  (I choose not to explain.)

I should make a list of reasons why I don't want to go out with Dave.  [Why would you do this???  And then why would you want him to read it???]  (I hate that phrase -- going out with, it just sounds so queer -- my word o' the day.)

1. It's not him, it's what other people think of him
2. Everybody's against it (friendwise)

[Two?  The list has two items?]  I guess it just all boils down to the big peer pressure issue again.  Nobody in my family's ever really let that affect anything they did.  I usually don't either.  (I really need to do my nails.)  I'm so sick of hearing the damn Muppet theme everyday here in study hall.  It's a bit annoying after a while.  

I don't know what to do!  (I'm lying.)  I know what to do but I don't know if I want to.  No.  I know I want to but I don't know if I should.  I think I should but what would that mean?  (I'm not even understanding my questions now.)  [That makes two of us.  Imagine, I kept information from MYSELF.  No wonder my memory is so shit.]

I'm glad April's here, she wasn't this morning.  I'm also glad Heidi and Heather are back.  Today we take back our table.  I'd rather not go into it.  

And I look crappy today.  But as usual I don't really care.  I never look this bad at home or anywhere else for that matter, only at school.  [We'll blame the fluorescent lighting.]  

And I can't stand this person sitting across from me.  (H.A.)  She's so annoying.  I try to ignore her but it really does no good.  [I actually do remember who this is...]

This is a good stopping point. There should be more drama coming soon and then everything implodes. Bizzee at work! Cheers!   

"I feel celestial."

I'm already bored with Lady Gaga. Am I alone in this Lady Gaga business? No? I didn't think so. I mean, I like what she's pretending to do but I just can't get behind it any longer. Sigh. I like Marina now.

Sooo. I've been having these panic attacks lately that are f-ing bru-tal-i-tar. Just out of nowhere I'll feel this tightness in my chest and then there's this pain and then my heart's beating much too fast and I'm hot and I need to lay down except I'll be at work or outside in public somewhere so there's really nothing I can do about it but hold on and wait for it to pass. The only answer is to get me back on meds and into therapy but I don't have insurance cos I live in the god damned USA (USA, USA, USA). And I tell you again, I'm not on SSI because we make too much money!!! And from what I've read it's hard to claim a psych disability anyway. So, as usual, I hold on and wait for it to pass.

Should I be ashamed to tell you this? Do you think I give a fuck? Straight Whiskey Tango up in here! Yet not whiskey tango enough to NOT realize these things. And not whiskey tango enough to truly NOT be ashamed that I tell you things. Or to refer to myself as AK-47. (A story for another time.)

Yesterday I was writing in my "gurnal" ("Yeah, whatever. Guess I'm not all smart like you.") and today what I wrote yesterday made me feel like a total ass. For example, I wrote: "I can't tell  how perceptive I am vs. how paranoid." Turns out I'm definitely more paranoid than perceptive. But I don't want to talk about that.

But speaking of paranoid: At Sharp Edge this evening I was followed into the ladies by a little person of the male persuasion who seemed drunk but may have been a little m/r. Not sure, but I gave him death stare that made him close the door behind him on his way out while I was locking the stall door behind me. It was surreal but then I had one of those "it would've been awesome if I had said..." moments. I could've been Chelsea Handler or Tina Fey. But alas, I remain myself.   

And it's hard to deal with anything when it's so f-ing hot and you don't have central air. I can barely function let alone do laundry or take out the trash. And there's nothing like the smell of hot trash. Mmm mmm! I just got a wiff of it in my kitchen. But you know what? Fuck it. Who cares? I'll go spend $70 online at Sephora instead of dealing with this shit. (I may also be drinking wine right now.) (But I'm also listening to the Misfits.) Eyeliner. Still your friend in this heat.

Still need a job in Philly. Hit me up. Yeah.

Working on the playlist for you guys. Allen may start a blog soon so look out for that. I'm totally behind it. You should be to. Encourage him in all things, I need him to support me.

I'm a big fan.

This past weekend was almost unbearable in so many ways.  It's been hot here, like most places, and our apartment is really good at holding in heat in the summer. Yesterday we pulled out the sheets again to cover the couch so we wouldn't sweat all over it.  On Saturday, our old oscillating fan, which came from my parents house and was at least 20 years old, started to smell like burning so we had to pitch it and bought one of those new-fangled tower fans.  It's weak.  On our shopping excursion we also came across these fancy new Dyson fans that don't have blades:

 

They only cost $300.  Yeah, that's right, $300.  Why wouldn't you just buy an air conditioner?

Anywho... There are other reasons why this weekend sucked, like the World Cup being exhausting to keep up with (Ghana! Germany! I'm losing steam!), the sudden appearance of children next door who came equipped with small fireworks that they set off at the exact same time we feed the cats, general malaise about the future, visits from Aunt Flo, NOT drinking (day 5! or is it 6?), and to top it all off, as I was getting ready for bed last night, somewhere between the kitchen and the bedroom, a giant green mosquito landed in my long, tall glass of freshly made Crystal Light. WTF?  

There's a bunch of stuff I want to do but I've been feeling too down in the dumps to actually do any of it.  Allen and I are supposed to go to Montreal this summer, and Toronto for Rue Morgue's Festival of Fear at the end of August, and I want to go to the beach, maybe in Delaware since it's been a long time since I've been there.  There are two Ren Faires to go to later this year, Pittsburgh's and the PA Ren Faire actual.  We want to go to Ohiopyle, PA for canoeing or rafting or whatever, and we even mentioned going to the HP Lovecraft Film Festival/Cthulhu Con in October but airfare alone would be around $700 if we got tickets today.  Meanwhile, I can't even handle a trip to the grocery store without some kind of freak out.  Which also happened this weekend.  Annoying.

Another footy match starts in about 15 minutes so I gotta go.  I love it, I really do, but it's wearing me out.  

Here's to swimmin' with bow-legged women.