(no subject)
Well, I survived another New Years. THis one was even less interesting than any previous one I can think of. I did very little drinking the day before, and none actually on New Years. I didn't go out. I haven't been out at all, really, during December, except during the two trips I took to see my Father and the other side of my family, and a couple of trips to Millersburg.
Chris and I did go to the library, and rented Robot Chicken, which is now overdue and we'll have to pay like three bucks on it.
Right now, three bucks is a lot. I've got a Wal-Mart paycheck, but I haven't been able to cash it yet. I am going to see if the car can make it to Wal-Mart in Harrisburg, and then, maybe, they'll cash it for three bucks.
I've also got a fifty dollar check from my mother's ex-husband, my adopted father, Roger. I feel bad even looking at it. He sent me a check in August, and I misplaced the envelope, so I didn't have a return address to send him a letter or even a thank you card. I just assumed that, in December, he would just forget me, thinking that I didn't even care enough to reply to his generous gift. Instead, he sends me more money than he did in August. I had no idea that I actually cared about such things, but I feel pretty damn bad. Now, I really DID lose the address, and no one I asked had it, which is something else I'm going to rectify. It's up to Jaime and Randi if they want to contact their father or not, but I'm at least going to give them the option of writing him, in the form of giving them his address.
I don't have a bank account yet. My ID from Pennsylvania is expired now, and I've got no real proof that I have an address. I get mail here, but I don't have any utliity bills, so, post 9/11, many banks won't acknowledge that I'm not in Al Quida. Which is funny, considering I was being trained to go into the Middle East and blend in with the Iranians a decade ago.
I woke up, and screwed around for awhile, and then, not able to resist it, checked the Ex's journal entry. She posted her long one; her equivilant to the "why we broke up" letter. I know this is one of those things you'll think is bullshit, if you're a normal person, but livejournal says she posted it at the same moment I woke up today. Mind you, there's an hour difference, but I accounted for that. She mostly mentioned how much she loved Charles over and over and over and over and over and over and over again. She even mentioned that I was probably the most resonable person she'll ever find when dealing with her love for a big homo. She calls him her homo. Myself, I don't give a fuck whether someone's gay or not. Usually, I just say "More women for me." which is hysterical now, since a homo is the reason I don't have a woman. Hysterical in the way that it would be hysterical if, my first time in the water in years, I was stung in the heart by a stingray. I'd die laughing...
So, I'm bitter. People, most people, don't seem to think I have a right to be bitter. People tell me I'm a better person than all that, and I should rise above it. Hell, why do *I* have to be a better person all of a sudden? Beth doesn't think I'm a better person than anyone, and she knows me better than any of you ever will.
Think about that, readers: The person who knows me the best in the whole world hates my fucking guts and slowly waits the day that I'll die, and she can desicrate my grave with a profane symbol of our sick, twisted love.
And now I miss people. I never missed people before, not really. I miss LIz. I miss Janelle. And, gods help me, I miss Debbie. Fucking redheads. I miss Beth more than anyone else, of course, but she'll just cry "bullshit" when she reads this, even if she wouldn't want to admit she was doing so.
I really would like peace between the two of us. It won't happen. We might even agree to it, but it won't happen anyway. There's too much emotion there. Love and Hate are almost always the same emotion, just depending on how you handle it. Whatever that one emotion is, and I'm surprised no one's given it a single nname, Beth and I have a ton of it for each other.
Okay, I just erased another half-sentence about her. I'm going to stop going on and on about her in this entry. That last one was supposed to be the end of it, I know.
If you are reading this, Amsterdam is fine. Myself, I have not taken to drugs to make myself feel better, nor am I in even a casual relationship with a girl. So, you can consider than any number of victories on your part.
I miss the book. I miss writing my book, but I don't seem to be able to remember how to write anything of substance. Maybe I never could. I can hardly get into DND with the boys, and Chris has built a Magic deck that can take me apart. Even Final Fantasy XII has nothing to offer me, at this point.
I really wish I believed in suicide. I don't, so I hope to God none of you are going to panic. I'm as close to suicide as I am to giving birth to a thousand tiny elephants who will do my bidding (and the dishes), but I'm just saying it would be a very covenient way to stop all of this emotion.
I've washed a sum total of one dish this month. We mostly eat off of paper plates, but there are dirty dishes. I really ought to go do them. I feel so grateful for Chris all of the time. You know, if he had a vagina, my life would be so much easier...
It would be so much easier, also, if I hated women alltogether. I wanted to, I really, REALLY wanted to hate women. I convinced myself that I should just stay away from the gender completely. Neither Chris nor Aaron is dating, right now, though Aaron's working on a girl he knows. I think "I can stay away from women, if they can." But, I'm trying to lie to myself. I'm failing to do so, though. I can't outsmart myself any more than Charles Xavier could back in the old days.
Ah, a reference no one will get. That's more like the old me.
Well, Aaron might get it, but he doesn't read my entries. Chris will get it, because I'll tell him what it means later if he wants me to. Sometimes, I just feel like giving all my mountains of crap to CHris, and wandering off into the woods. I'd last awhile, once I learned to digeset uncooked meat. I still have my apendix.
My mother tells me that I'm going to have a good year. I've got 364 more days to face, and any of them feel like today, I don't know how I'll manage. I never said I didn't UNDERSTAND why people take drugs, faithful readers. They take them so they don't have to deal with feeling their true emotions. I'm big into truth, no matter what my wenchy-poo says.
Fuck all this. I've got dishes to do...
Walk in Light, peeps.
All the love in the world to ya...
The other JM
Chris and I did go to the library, and rented Robot Chicken, which is now overdue and we'll have to pay like three bucks on it.
Right now, three bucks is a lot. I've got a Wal-Mart paycheck, but I haven't been able to cash it yet. I am going to see if the car can make it to Wal-Mart in Harrisburg, and then, maybe, they'll cash it for three bucks.
I've also got a fifty dollar check from my mother's ex-husband, my adopted father, Roger. I feel bad even looking at it. He sent me a check in August, and I misplaced the envelope, so I didn't have a return address to send him a letter or even a thank you card. I just assumed that, in December, he would just forget me, thinking that I didn't even care enough to reply to his generous gift. Instead, he sends me more money than he did in August. I had no idea that I actually cared about such things, but I feel pretty damn bad. Now, I really DID lose the address, and no one I asked had it, which is something else I'm going to rectify. It's up to Jaime and Randi if they want to contact their father or not, but I'm at least going to give them the option of writing him, in the form of giving them his address.
I don't have a bank account yet. My ID from Pennsylvania is expired now, and I've got no real proof that I have an address. I get mail here, but I don't have any utliity bills, so, post 9/11, many banks won't acknowledge that I'm not in Al Quida. Which is funny, considering I was being trained to go into the Middle East and blend in with the Iranians a decade ago.
I woke up, and screwed around for awhile, and then, not able to resist it, checked the Ex's journal entry. She posted her long one; her equivilant to the "why we broke up" letter. I know this is one of those things you'll think is bullshit, if you're a normal person, but livejournal says she posted it at the same moment I woke up today. Mind you, there's an hour difference, but I accounted for that. She mostly mentioned how much she loved Charles over and over and over and over and over and over and over again. She even mentioned that I was probably the most resonable person she'll ever find when dealing with her love for a big homo. She calls him her homo. Myself, I don't give a fuck whether someone's gay or not. Usually, I just say "More women for me." which is hysterical now, since a homo is the reason I don't have a woman. Hysterical in the way that it would be hysterical if, my first time in the water in years, I was stung in the heart by a stingray. I'd die laughing...
So, I'm bitter. People, most people, don't seem to think I have a right to be bitter. People tell me I'm a better person than all that, and I should rise above it. Hell, why do *I* have to be a better person all of a sudden? Beth doesn't think I'm a better person than anyone, and she knows me better than any of you ever will.
Think about that, readers: The person who knows me the best in the whole world hates my fucking guts and slowly waits the day that I'll die, and she can desicrate my grave with a profane symbol of our sick, twisted love.
And now I miss people. I never missed people before, not really. I miss LIz. I miss Janelle. And, gods help me, I miss Debbie. Fucking redheads. I miss Beth more than anyone else, of course, but she'll just cry "bullshit" when she reads this, even if she wouldn't want to admit she was doing so.
I really would like peace between the two of us. It won't happen. We might even agree to it, but it won't happen anyway. There's too much emotion there. Love and Hate are almost always the same emotion, just depending on how you handle it. Whatever that one emotion is, and I'm surprised no one's given it a single nname, Beth and I have a ton of it for each other.
Okay, I just erased another half-sentence about her. I'm going to stop going on and on about her in this entry. That last one was supposed to be the end of it, I know.
If you are reading this, Amsterdam is fine. Myself, I have not taken to drugs to make myself feel better, nor am I in even a casual relationship with a girl. So, you can consider than any number of victories on your part.
I miss the book. I miss writing my book, but I don't seem to be able to remember how to write anything of substance. Maybe I never could. I can hardly get into DND with the boys, and Chris has built a Magic deck that can take me apart. Even Final Fantasy XII has nothing to offer me, at this point.
I really wish I believed in suicide. I don't, so I hope to God none of you are going to panic. I'm as close to suicide as I am to giving birth to a thousand tiny elephants who will do my bidding (and the dishes), but I'm just saying it would be a very covenient way to stop all of this emotion.
I've washed a sum total of one dish this month. We mostly eat off of paper plates, but there are dirty dishes. I really ought to go do them. I feel so grateful for Chris all of the time. You know, if he had a vagina, my life would be so much easier...
It would be so much easier, also, if I hated women alltogether. I wanted to, I really, REALLY wanted to hate women. I convinced myself that I should just stay away from the gender completely. Neither Chris nor Aaron is dating, right now, though Aaron's working on a girl he knows. I think "I can stay away from women, if they can." But, I'm trying to lie to myself. I'm failing to do so, though. I can't outsmart myself any more than Charles Xavier could back in the old days.
Ah, a reference no one will get. That's more like the old me.
Well, Aaron might get it, but he doesn't read my entries. Chris will get it, because I'll tell him what it means later if he wants me to. Sometimes, I just feel like giving all my mountains of crap to CHris, and wandering off into the woods. I'd last awhile, once I learned to digeset uncooked meat. I still have my apendix.
My mother tells me that I'm going to have a good year. I've got 364 more days to face, and any of them feel like today, I don't know how I'll manage. I never said I didn't UNDERSTAND why people take drugs, faithful readers. They take them so they don't have to deal with feeling their true emotions. I'm big into truth, no matter what my wenchy-poo says.
Fuck all this. I've got dishes to do...
Walk in Light, peeps.
All the love in the world to ya...
The other JM