I plan to take another blogging hiatus because I have nothing good to say about anything...except that in theory 3.5 days away from the soul-sucking dungeon also known as work was glorious and my 7-min phone convo with Tino made everything about 1/3 better. Still in general, this past week and change has been the pits. (Disclaimer: Gratuitous self-flagellation and mega-sized pity party to follow. Yeah, you can skip this one)
My job is literally making me sick. Because the space is all loft-like and I sit between two vents, I get industrial strength AC and it's causing havoc on me. I literally went in with a sniffle and came out hacking and sneezing and I'm still fucked up. I also can't see the top of my desks most days and I'm abusing the "Send All Calls To Voicemail" button because I just get sick of talking to people after a certain point. And Thursday is our company picnic somewhere in Bumfuck, NJ (to be reached by a bus trip) and I'd rather jump in front of a car.
In social terms, the long weekend was an absolute bust. Jack and cokes combined with the deadly sweet mystery drinks at Sapph Thursday night had me not even contemplating doing anything Friday night. But, I couldn't get a decent night's sleep because I got about 10 calls and 3 messages from the last fool before I got tired of the 419 scene and hung up my hot pants. I haven't even seen him since March and I hope after getting no response he just loses my number. Gah. Saturday had me still kinda shaky, but getting it together to go with PrincessNella to apartment hunt in Astoria. We signed up with a broker and might get the chance to pay the equivalent of 1 month's rent to see a place we would've gotten a week ago if the present tenant wasn't a flake. Joy. The original plan was to check out a film fest I was given the heads up for by The Director (the artist formerly known as FFPGINOANP). Between checking an email from him that said he was out of town for the next month or so (killing that hope of running into him) plus the fact I couldn't get a single soul to return my call and had a depressing look at my ATM balance, I changed my mind.
I ended up back home wondering when I started hemorraging money so and observing that everything I have apparently goes to Ms. Mommy, drinks, and Whole Foods. And replacement clothes because I've finally accepted the fact that I've grown beyond the size plateau I was chilling at for a while. I got a call from Mr. Daddy letting me know that my aunt was having a holiday cookout and I decided to tag. He said he'd be by to pick me up and about 2 hours later he finally was. He's a firm believer in CPT.
We (being he, Mrs. Daddy, the little brother and I) were cruising down the Southern State in family Honda when Mr. Daddy switches lanes fast and pulls up behind this Jeep that he realized had stopped when he kinda bumped it. Then suddenly, it's rolling in reverse on top of our hood, where it ends up resting. A Jeep on a Honda. Imagine that shit. We get out quick smelling something strange and stand there and marvel at the fact an SUV is on our sedan and that we were pretty lucky that the tire stopped right before the windshield. We chat with the witnesses and look at the fools just sitting there in the Jeep (they were especially dumbass because their ruptured gas tank was sitting on our car). I call 911 and all that and an hour and a change later, after traffic is totally fucked up, the state troopers fill out their reports, and the tow trucks pull the cars apart, we continue to the aunt's house...
...where the first thing out of an older cousin's mouth is "Hey there, you look like you put on some weight." Yeah? Fuck you. Today I'm a fat cow with shot fucking nerves. Can I have some fucking food please? Oh wait, no food for me because everyone has eaten it all. The hazard when you get to even a function in my family after 10. So, I got to hear everyone tell me how fat I look since June and ask me what I've (or rather what I haven't) been eating. I swallowed the indignity of pig feet and gizzards eating folks that are twice my size calling me fat. I might be chubbier than before and it's not like I haven't noticed. I have them to blame for my subsequent diet pill/anorexia problems and I'll be sure to tell my future therapists so.
Back to the city I went after a while. I called Farmer (in town until Thursday) to see what was up. We're in a friend stage presently, only because he's playing drifter and he can't manipulate me into crashing at my house. If I was already moved, it might've played out a little differently, so let's be happy about that for a switch. He was doing something or another with his friends and I passed. I called around to my friends searching for someone to tell about the accident and my family trauma, but everyone was MIA. I travelled to Brooklyn to Jenny's party to get a little drink and give my birthday respects before going to rest my nerves at home.
Sunday was at least sedate. Another day of no one returning my phone calls and/or just blowing me off had me thinking "well fuck it, I used to do whatever by myself for so long. What's the difference now?" It just is. Every once in a while I need people. (It's a secret. Don't tell anybody.) I made a good attempt, getting food in Chinatown and wandering the LES before I began to see myself going on a bender because I was depressed and that I'd be better off just going home and to bed and saving myself the money and the calories. I also started to feel kinda bitter because it just reaffirmed this feeling I've always had in the back of my mind of being too available for people because when I need them, I'm like a ghost. It's sometimes a disadvantage to play strong and no nonsense because you're always like a social director/sounding board emotional/social prop for others. You become some mama bear nuturer type creature and you find that people are never really as open to giving back what you give. One of my fave song lines that I remember in times like this is: be a little more selfish, it might do you some good. I might try that. I'm due for an island phase. Saves a lot of time when you're only accountable for yourself.
I cruised on the bitterness parade all the way back to Queens where finally there were messages waiting. Did I care? No, not really...except for Lina's. I walked around freezing and chatting with her (strangely because it's not like I don't get reception on the bus or at home), feeling slightly better and was prompted to call Tino. I've missed the hell out of that kid and it's a shame we're both to lazy to visit...though he's trying to make it out here to coincide with the supposed upcoming Alex. The three of them are just people that I can just chat with and be buoyed just by the sounds of their voices. Though Lina's here in town, work and different schedules have had us falling off slightly. The thought of a mini-68 High reunion is a hopeful thing for me. That's about all there is.
I plan to spend my blog hiatus only mildly sulking, exercising like a fiend, and just trying to clean up house. And chill out for a change. Maybe I'll even like the world again when I come back. Doubt it.
Posted by Candicissima at September 6, 2004 03:04 AM