Wednesday, November 24, 2004


Thanksgiving is upon us.

I took the week off of work because I could, so I did. It’s been very nice to have had nothing to do at all. Let me reflect.

I am not having a birthday this year, I refuse to get any older until my life stops sucking. I am thankful for my mom and dad not being entirely freakish. I am thankful for my lovely car, my tastefully decorated and well-appointed apartment, my shoes.

Last Wednesday I did an open mic. I was challenging the white perspective on Asian men in gay porn. Wow. That was met with a lot of hostility from certain people in the audience, including those who called me a racist and a bigot. It was quite a clear example of what happens when people get overly PC and forget that there can be a point to stories and there can be a way to express one’s self without being a complete racist. Indeed, to an educated person, one might say that I was merely noticing that which goes on around me. Hmmm. But that’s not nearly as fun as calling me a racist bigot.

At anyrate. I did meet some lovely people, so that was fun. And maybe have scored a few dates, who knows. I’m enjoying things.

Funny; I was pretty down before I decided to pour a few drinks and head over there. Good thing I did.

Friday I was supposed to go out with my friends who are all couples, and decided not to. Joyously, my former French teacher was in town, and I had a few drinks with her. That was most wonderful; she’s such a great person. Not necessarily best friend quality, but absolutely role model quality. I have so very few people I look up to, ever, so having her around is really great. Selfishly, I suppose, on one hand, but on the other everyone needs role models. I am glad she is mine. She is older than I by probably 25 years or 30 years. She is active, vibrant, fascinating, take classes, teaches classes, meets for (sex, I’m guessing) with her long time companion, and that’s just awesome. I hope my life is that cool one day. Though, in some ways, my life is that cool—just in different ways. Plus, my skin is nicer. Though for how long…

We talked about Dangerous Liaisons, which I didn’t know was one of her favorite books. I took to re-reading it and watching 2 more versions of it. I love that story so much.

My other French teacher was in town as well, and it was delightful to see her, too. I told her the one phrase I remember most from her class, which was “Vraiment je perds mon temps.” She enjoyed that I remembered that. But when a French teacher such as she gets mad, her insults and rage are still akin to sweet flowers descending from the heavens.

Saturday I was supposed to go out with my couple friends to watch the lights light up on Michigan Avenue. I declined doing so—I have few vestiges of dignity, and it would not allow me to go hang out with a bunch of couples. Can’t do it. Don’t want to do it. Asked mom about it—asked if it were wrong of me not to want to do it, she said no. And the most important part, I think, is that I’m not unhappy when I’m doing other things. Now, were I alone and refusing companionship and miserable, that would be bad.

So I curled up with Catherine Deneuve and enjoyed my time alone.

Sunday I went back to see mom and dad, they’re doing well. Nothing profound to report there. Sister is not happy with me, she blames me for removing her from the abusive relationship environment. Well, she wanted to get away from him, so I went and got her, and now she’s blaming me for the whole thing. That makes perfect sense to me—it’s completely unfuckingfair, but hey, that’s what a big sibling does. I guess. Who knows. She’s going to move in with him, I’m sure, and then they’ll have babies and they can both be emotionally abusive to them. Then I can be the Cool Relative for their weekends. Or whatever.

Sunday night got the better of me, and I felt guilty for not hanging out with the couples. I do not regret not hanging out with them. The evening was OK; I was drunk, the food was delicious.

I decided that it isn’t the couplehood that is the problem. It is the selfishness of one of the components of the couple. I am very tired of her drama and her selfishness. While I can tolerate regular old drama with the best of them, indeed, I take pride in being able to out-drama people, when the mood fancies me—but when drama starts to play with people’s heart strings, I really have to take issue. As in the case of the rude ½ of the couple, let me start by asking, “Who the fuck invites a 2 months old ex to meet the new boyfriend?” In spite of what the ex will say, the ex does not want to see it. Don’t care who, don’t care how, the ex will not want to see it. Maturity levels aside, it’s just absolutely ridiculous. Naturally this friend will say that it’s not her fault because if someone is unable to see though things and get on with life, then it’s their fault. Much in the same way babies should always play in traffic so they can quickly get over the fact that there’s cars in the road. Just tacky all the way around. And I shouldn’t be allowed to get drunk near such things because I get rude. Fortunately, no one saw it—or if they did they’re being extraordinarily polite, and completely uncharacteristically muted. Perhaps it a bit of all of it. I do provide myself with quite a bit of leeway; acting up more than I really am required when drunk, so that when I am fighting against acting up less than I am really required, then I will be moderated. I guess. Who knows. But I’m sure it will pass, as do all things.

Monday I went to the dermatologist. She looked all over my body, which of course was her duty, but I felt a little weird getting naked without being offered a drink. I think there should be more alcohol offered around. We need minibars and minicarts all over the place, all the time, all day, every day. Sobriety is so overrated in this society. Except for those trashy sorostitutes and frattrash who like to kill themselves with alcohol poisoning. That’s perfectly acceptable.

There is a bar in Denver that is alerting people to the dangers of overdrinking by having a drink-a-thon with the proceeds donated to the I Am Pretty And White But Drank Too Much Now I’m Dead And Mommy And Daddy Decided To Put Their Money To A Different Use And Established The Whore Is Me Fund fund of their choice.

Nobody, of course, sees the irony in all of that. But what do I know. I observe, think, and read without moving my lips. Regrettably that makes me unique.

Monday evening I don’t really remember what I did. I drove around, probably, and looked at stuff.

Tuesday I went back to suburbia and replaced light bulbs and put up some of the Xmas lights. Most of that will be done tomorrow during Thanksgiving. This year is going to suck because I don’t have any money to go spend the day after. Oh well; c’est la vie! Hopefully I’ll get the iPod and digital camera I’ve wanted for a long time. Came home, did laundry, watched movies, relaxed. Polished and shone all my shoes, they look mega chic now.

Today was nice. I woke up, ate pizza, the last of my bad carbs, because I am sick of being a big fat rolly polly. Got my hair cut, looks stunning. Naturally. So, someone from Indiana on some basketball team or whatever went into the audience and beat someone up. Good for them; I’m sick of all that stupid shit, class-free dumpster trash watching sports and yelling at the players as if there were the Berlin Wall separating them. Anyhow, so X sports player is now out $5.3 mill for his suspension. Fine. But then the barber was getting all on my case, because I think anyone bitching about 5.3 mill needs to shut the fuck up. But barber man said that he probably has lots of credit and is dependent on that 5.3 for his “Hummer, house, and all that.”

Sorry. The American Dream is expensive. Don’t assume anything. It won’t happen the way you plan it, ever.

Then headed to O-Max to get resume paper and envelopes. Stopped by Target, they had some nice pants, but not in my size, plus I’m way too fat to consider buying anything right now.

Then went to go buy some fake flowers at Frank’s—they will soon be out of business and it will be sad to see them go. But who asked them to sell overpriced crap? I bought a dozen red long stem roses, with 4 sprays of mini rose, and a red geranium for a spray of flowers in my room. Then, near the black and white photos, I put in white carnations, white rambling gypsy roses, black dahlia, a white delphinium, black delphinium, and two oncidiums, both white. Then, in the bathroom I put in a bearded purple iris, then two Cesar’s brother irises, two bluebonnets, then a big huge yellow forsythia branch. Looks pretty good.

Went grocery shopping, no need to itemize. Made food, will watch movie, then sleep. I think there’s a gathering at a friend’s house tonight; that’ll be nice. Might have a date on Friday with someone. Ooo!


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