Just squeeze your rage up into a bitter little ball and release it at an appropriate time...*
...like that day I hit the referee with the whiskey bottle.*
My day has fucking sucked because omfg!. Everything is just so, so... argh! I spend most of the day with my inner child crouching in some dark recess's corner, wibbling because it thinks the world's kicking it in the balls socks and whining how it just want's to go home. Do you know how hard it is to get through the day when you've got a whiny voice in your head going, "I want to go home" all day? Really fucking hard, that's how.
And then we finished early so I went off to work on the proposal and that went shockingly well and then I went to the gym and didn't die on the elliptic thingy and then I went to yoga and got frowned at because I didn't have a big-ass towel - dude, no more shit fits into my big-enough-to-consume-the-earth-entirely backpack and it is not International Towel Day - and then it was all about breathing or what the fuck ever - not that I know because it was all in Dutch and I still totally suck at desiphering Dutch when it's in the whole passive listening to gods-know-what way - and that was just the most frustrating thing ever so I got peeved and then the wibble bastard started up again and during meditation I starting thinking about folk and got all sad again and then I biked home amidst morons who can't respect traffic laws.
Then mom called, and then dad, right when I was fresh outta the shower and then having dinner and that was frustrating because I hate nothing more than people calling you and then seeing you're busy - well, not busy, but you would've preferred not to be called just then - and then they say they'll hang right up and you're like, "No! What the fuck! We're talking, let's just talk, you've ruined the mellow already, let's just talk!"
And then it turns out today's dad's birthday and I'm this super-duper-ginormous ass because I forgot and my brother's evil because he didn't poke me about it even though I'm always poking him about birthdays and I feel like such an ass, have I mentioned that?
And then talking with mom about The Lack of Social Life here in the land of wind and flooding I got even more rilled up and disappointed and expendable. I know Wulan and Elisa and Laura and shit had plans to go socializing after the drinks on Friday, but they never said anything to me and Elisa's been blowing me off or whatever, I'm sure they're all very ligitimate reasons, for weeks and no one ever calls me, either back or just 'cause and honestly I'm trying here to make friends friends but for fuck's sake, I can't always be the one calling and emailing and planning and showing up at their doorstep looking like Puss in Boots with my feathery hat, all "Please adopt me! Please be my friend! I want to socialize!" I try, damnit, but I wish people would just remember me once in a while. And no, Facebook-inviting me to the speed dating at Some Bar on a Wednesday night doesn't fucking count. Fuck that shit.
And then the thing I'm doing with my brother regarding Apple shit is just one headache after another 'cause we're juggling addresses and telephone numbers and plastic and I don't know what's going on anymore and it's 11:30 pm and I'm been running about since 7:20 am.
And then I try to relax and meme and Firefox flippin' dies on me - no, not dies, disappears, just up and *is running* but really *is invisible* and my "let's try to mellow out through the rage" Fugees CD up and dies again because my radio's got the electrical equivalent of muscles spasms.
And and and omfg I know touch is important to flippin' Homo not-sapiens and the ape's emotional and physical well-being - I don't need a Business News Weekly presentation to tell me that I'd be happier and healthier if only I weren't living like Rogue. Someone touch me, goddamnit! I'm going to frickin' snap one of these days and glomp and slobber over some innocent fool and that's going to be bad!
Gods, I'm so peeved I could rip out a ferret from someone's spleen. A ferret. Not a ferret-shaped anything. The hairy bastard, I'm a gonna rip it out.
That or cry.
Or punch something. Can I punch something?
ETA: I just deleted my Links of the Day. I just. Deleted. My links. I just- *spontaneously compusts with argh*
Interview meme via lienne:
1. Leave me a comment saying, “Interview me.”
2. I will respond by asking you 5 questions of a very personal nature.
3. You will update your LJ with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this and an offer to interview someone else in the post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them 5 questions.
1. Who would you most want to speak at your funeral? Apparently in my family we don't do the "speaking at a funeral" thing - we get the priest to say mass and that's about it. But...hmm... I mean, it seems like such a hard thing to do (emotionally speaking) that I'd feel awful asking someone to do that.
Well, I'd hope it were my significant other, you know, the kind where you're madly in love and happy and soul-mates and whatnot, because I might be dead but damnit, I had me some lovin' nookie beforehand. And if not then...well, dunno, because the people who matter aren't where I am and they wouldn't be able to go to the funeral and omg this is so depressing.
Fine, you know what? We're setting up a boom box and playing some awesome song . Everyone can sit the fuck down and listen to that. (I've sort of been thinking about funeral music choice - or more accurately, "the last song I want to hear before I die" - because I'm delightfully morbid that way.)
...or Neil Gaiman reading a poem. That'd be cool. (Tape-recording totally accepted.)
2. What do you hope they'd say about you? "She mattered."
3. If you could be best friends with one fictional character, who would it be? My first impulse is to say TDK's Commissioner Jim Gordon, but that's only because he's in my head and won't leave and I don't know why. But if I could pick...um...Narnia's Reepicheep? 'Cause...mouse? Nah...
I'm totally sucking at thinking of character's a) I like, b) might conceivable care a rat's ass about me and c) not try to slice my head off.
*sudden inspiration strikes like ninja!fist* Firefly's Hoban Wasburn! Yes! Wash! !!!
4. Who was (or were, if multiple) your runner-up for 3? Queer as Folk's Emmett because he's lovely and awesome. (And apparently Reepicheep.)
5. Do you sing in the shower and are you any good at it? I do more-rarely-than-occasionally sing in the shower, and quite decently (though I'm better if I've got music to sing along to). On a bike, however, unless I've got music to listen to, I will sing and no one will stop me.
Historical Figure Meme via fallen_iceangel:
Which Historical Lunatic Are You?
From the fecund loins of Rum and Monkey.
* Dan Castellaneta
My day has fucking sucked because omfg!. Everything is just so, so... argh! I spend most of the day with my inner child crouching in some dark recess's corner, wibbling because it thinks the world's kicking it in the balls socks and whining how it just want's to go home. Do you know how hard it is to get through the day when you've got a whiny voice in your head going, "I want to go home" all day? Really fucking hard, that's how.
And then we finished early so I went off to work on the proposal and that went shockingly well and then I went to the gym and didn't die on the elliptic thingy and then I went to yoga and got frowned at because I didn't have a big-ass towel - dude, no more shit fits into my big-enough-to-consume-the-earth-entirely backpack and it is not International Towel Day - and then it was all about breathing or what the fuck ever - not that I know because it was all in Dutch and I still totally suck at desiphering Dutch when it's in the whole passive listening to gods-know-what way - and that was just the most frustrating thing ever so I got peeved and then the wibble bastard started up again and during meditation I starting thinking about folk and got all sad again and then I biked home amidst morons who can't respect traffic laws.
Then mom called, and then dad, right when I was fresh outta the shower and then having dinner and that was frustrating because I hate nothing more than people calling you and then seeing you're busy - well, not busy, but you would've preferred not to be called just then - and then they say they'll hang right up and you're like, "No! What the fuck! We're talking, let's just talk, you've ruined the mellow already, let's just talk!"
And then it turns out today's dad's birthday and I'm this super-duper-ginormous ass because I forgot and my brother's evil because he didn't poke me about it even though I'm always poking him about birthdays and I feel like such an ass, have I mentioned that?
And then talking with mom about The Lack of Social Life here in the land of wind and flooding I got even more rilled up and disappointed and expendable. I know Wulan and Elisa and Laura and shit had plans to go socializing after the drinks on Friday, but they never said anything to me and Elisa's been blowing me off or whatever, I'm sure they're all very ligitimate reasons, for weeks and no one ever calls me, either back or just 'cause and honestly I'm trying here to make friends friends but for fuck's sake, I can't always be the one calling and emailing and planning and showing up at their doorstep looking like Puss in Boots with my feathery hat, all "Please adopt me! Please be my friend! I want to socialize!" I try, damnit, but I wish people would just remember me once in a while. And no, Facebook-inviting me to the speed dating at Some Bar on a Wednesday night doesn't fucking count. Fuck that shit.
And then the thing I'm doing with my brother regarding Apple shit is just one headache after another 'cause we're juggling addresses and telephone numbers and plastic and I don't know what's going on anymore and it's 11:30 pm and I'm been running about since 7:20 am.
And then I try to relax and meme and Firefox flippin' dies on me - no, not dies, disappears, just up and *is running* but really *is invisible* and my "let's try to mellow out through the rage" Fugees CD up and dies again because my radio's got the electrical equivalent of muscles spasms.
And and and omfg I know touch is important to flippin' Homo not-sapiens and the ape's emotional and physical well-being - I don't need a Business News Weekly presentation to tell me that I'd be happier and healthier if only I weren't living like Rogue. Someone touch me, goddamnit! I'm going to frickin' snap one of these days and glomp and slobber over some innocent fool and that's going to be bad!
Gods, I'm so peeved I could rip out a ferret from someone's spleen. A ferret. Not a ferret-shaped anything. The hairy bastard, I'm a gonna rip it out.
That or cry.
Or punch something. Can I punch something?
ETA: I just deleted my Links of the Day. I just. Deleted. My links. I just- *spontaneously compusts with argh*
Interview meme via lienne:
1. Leave me a comment saying, “Interview me.”
2. I will respond by asking you 5 questions of a very personal nature.
3. You will update your LJ with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this and an offer to interview someone else in the post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them 5 questions.
1. Who would you most want to speak at your funeral? Apparently in my family we don't do the "speaking at a funeral" thing - we get the priest to say mass and that's about it. But...hmm... I mean, it seems like such a hard thing to do (emotionally speaking) that I'd feel awful asking someone to do that.
Well, I'd hope it were my significant other, you know, the kind where you're madly in love and happy and soul-mates and whatnot, because I might be dead but damnit, I had me some lovin' nookie beforehand. And if not then...well, dunno, because the people who matter aren't where I am and they wouldn't be able to go to the funeral and omg this is so depressing.
Fine, you know what? We're setting up a boom box and playing some awesome song . Everyone can sit the fuck down and listen to that. (I've sort of been thinking about funeral music choice - or more accurately, "the last song I want to hear before I die" - because I'm delightfully morbid that way.)
...or Neil Gaiman reading a poem. That'd be cool. (Tape-recording totally accepted.)
2. What do you hope they'd say about you? "She mattered."
3. If you could be best friends with one fictional character, who would it be? My first impulse is to say TDK's Commissioner Jim Gordon, but that's only because he's in my head and won't leave and I don't know why. But if I could pick...um...Narnia's Reepicheep? 'Cause...mouse? Nah...
I'm totally sucking at thinking of character's a) I like, b) might conceivable care a rat's ass about me and c) not try to slice my head off.
*sudden inspiration strikes like ninja!fist* Firefly's Hoban Wasburn! Yes! Wash! !!!
4. Who was (or were, if multiple) your runner-up for 3? Queer as Folk's Emmett because he's lovely and awesome. (And apparently Reepicheep.)
5. Do you sing in the shower and are you any good at it? I do more-rarely-than-occasionally sing in the shower, and quite decently (though I'm better if I've got music to sing along to). On a bike, however, unless I've got music to listen to, I will sing and no one will stop me.
Historical Figure Meme via fallen_iceangel:
Which Historical Lunatic Are You?
From the fecund loins of Rum and Monkey.
* Dan Castellaneta