Hermit.
I really am trying not to be a hermit. I was starting to feel a bit better, actually. And I know I only use LJ as the deep dark hole to shout my anger into, but it's not always quite as bad as you'd think if this was all you knew of me.
But that's probably true of everyone. Except drjeff. I suspect his life really is like his LJ: a perfect combination of hot-fiance-boobs and modern-day-brady-bunch topped with occasional-painkillers, which makes me happy because he deserves happy things. :)
But I like being a hermit. There are cats and video games and I don't have to brush my hair. And it feels like every time I wander out of my cave, the world pokes me in the eye with a stick.
Fuck you, world, and fuck your stupid pokin' stick!
---
Tuesday night I was angrier than I've been in a very very long time.
I'll go so far as to say that I was LIVID.
I like the word Livid. It sounds like anger but with a fiery reddish color and a fearsome primeval growl in the background.
I explained the whole sordid affair last night to N, and ended the 10 minute tirade with "... and I swear to god nobody should have a problem that takes THAT LONG to explain!"
---
Good rule of thumb: don't piss me off right before I'm going onstage.
Another good rule of (impending lack of a) thumb: don't go sticking your grabby pushy little fingers in my business. Next time I will probably bite them off.
And just in general: If I didn't ask you for help, DON'T HELP.
Last but not least: "I was just trying to help" is the stupidest fucking thing you can say in lieu of an apology. It's not saying "I'm sorry," it's saying "You should be thanking me even though I fucked everything up." It's shifting the blame back to the person who now has to clean up your mess and only serves to demonstrate that your goal of "helping" was probably more of a power play and/or a show to make yourself look more important.
When Pontius Pilate reached the pearly gates, he probably said "you gotta let me in, I was just trying to help..."
(yes, I know, that last sentence was wrong on a zillion levels)
---
My ability to care about placating people who pull this sort of thing on me is incredibly low.
The only response I could have had would've been to lecture said person VERY LOUDLY USING VERY SMALL WORDS AND SHORT SENTENCES... But after calming myself down enough to get ready for the show (because you should never put on eyeliner when you're livid) I just didn't want to spend any more energy dealing with bullshit.
Also: the venue would be a bad place to have that "conversation".
---
I have to remind myself: when these stupid things happen, the up-side is that a few people quietly step up and say "That? That was fucked up. I'm not involved but I saw that and it was fucked up. You have every right to be pissed off." and then I make a mental note to buy those people a drink or knit them a scarf or something.
But that's probably true of everyone. Except drjeff. I suspect his life really is like his LJ: a perfect combination of hot-fiance-boobs and modern-day-brady-bunch topped with occasional-painkillers, which makes me happy because he deserves happy things. :)
But I like being a hermit. There are cats and video games and I don't have to brush my hair. And it feels like every time I wander out of my cave, the world pokes me in the eye with a stick.
Fuck you, world, and fuck your stupid pokin' stick!
---
Tuesday night I was angrier than I've been in a very very long time.
I'll go so far as to say that I was LIVID.
I like the word Livid. It sounds like anger but with a fiery reddish color and a fearsome primeval growl in the background.
I explained the whole sordid affair last night to N, and ended the 10 minute tirade with "... and I swear to god nobody should have a problem that takes THAT LONG to explain!"
---
Good rule of thumb: don't piss me off right before I'm going onstage.
Another good rule of (impending lack of a) thumb: don't go sticking your grabby pushy little fingers in my business. Next time I will probably bite them off.
And just in general: If I didn't ask you for help, DON'T HELP.
Last but not least: "I was just trying to help" is the stupidest fucking thing you can say in lieu of an apology. It's not saying "I'm sorry," it's saying "You should be thanking me even though I fucked everything up." It's shifting the blame back to the person who now has to clean up your mess and only serves to demonstrate that your goal of "helping" was probably more of a power play and/or a show to make yourself look more important.
When Pontius Pilate reached the pearly gates, he probably said "you gotta let me in, I was just trying to help..."
(yes, I know, that last sentence was wrong on a zillion levels)
---
My ability to care about placating people who pull this sort of thing on me is incredibly low.
The only response I could have had would've been to lecture said person VERY LOUDLY USING VERY SMALL WORDS AND SHORT SENTENCES... But after calming myself down enough to get ready for the show (because you should never put on eyeliner when you're livid) I just didn't want to spend any more energy dealing with bullshit.
Also: the venue would be a bad place to have that "conversation".
---
I have to remind myself: when these stupid things happen, the up-side is that a few people quietly step up and say "That? That was fucked up. I'm not involved but I saw that and it was fucked up. You have every right to be pissed off." and then I make a mental note to buy those people a drink or knit them a scarf or something.