Dear Goddam Diary,
I realized something today: being nasty to someone who hurt you doesn’t really do any good. Well, I KNEW that part. I guess what I didn’t really internalize until recently is that being nasty to someone makes the other person very, very relieved about the decisions they made to get away from your crazy ass. It’s a kind of negative affirmation. When I was younger I spent a lot of time agonizing over people who hurt me, beyond what was normal for the grieving process and I think all it did was prolong the process and make some people feel sorry for me. I think this is some kind of subdirectory of “living well is the best revenge.” It’s a win-win. *rings gong*
Look at me I am so zen I cannot slap a bitch. Don’t worry, it won’t go to my head. I know I will bone something up again VERY soon.
Today I went to the Ballard Market and bought SOAP! I also went to the record store down there and they were playing Misfits covers and let me tell you it was amazing. I fawned on CDs and then went next door and tried on teal Fluevogs, but did not go all capitalism crazy.
Speaking of capitalism, did I tell you I am supposed to be getting a new compydore? I have been for like two weeks now and I keep FORGETTING to sit down and order it. It has been like this long since I had a computer that was less that 5 years old and works regularly. Now I can afford one and I am choking. I even have the specs. What is going on? What, what? I am writing this down like saying it aloud in hopes that I will figure it out.
Possibilites:
1. General craziness (salutes)
2. Weird security blanket feeling about a time that was bad and ghetto and involved me being depressed? Why am I nostalgic about that no money, all badness time?
2.5 Catholic guilt. My mom always said I was a closet Catholic. What does that even mean??
3. ??? I don’t know, really. Why do people choke?
4. I found a squirrel in the rat trap. It looked surprised!
It’s been a bananas weekend all around. On Friday night I was buying things online at like 1 a.m. that involved a kroner to dollar converter and I realized it is all because my partner in co-dependency is out of town. You find that special someone who will humor your crazy stuff and then they run off on business. It’s madness, I tells ya. So I am feeling very, very pathetic and hobbled at the moment. Interdependency can make people stronger than they would be on their own, but the hangover is a BITCH, isn’t it?
Let’s test your threshold of pain
Let’s see how long you last
That’s happened in your rape
On bosoms of your past
With jaded eyes and features
You think they really care
Let’s go where eagles dare
We’ll go where eagles dare
Have the order up on the screen, take three shots of fruity boozy joy, and pull the trigger.
BAM! Technology is dead in your hands. You own it and live it and make it your slave. And then wash your blood stained hands with yo new soap. SOAP! Fragrant cleansing of technology’s woes.
Ha ha! Yes.
I DID IT, no more chokes. This rum and coke is delishus!!
You seem to be going through a big change. (Oh, not *the* big change.) Can’t wait to see what you come up with on the other side of this internal processing. In the meantime, I’ll be patiently waiting and hitting the browser refresh button.
I am so with krumpy. Change all around! A round of change on me! Make mine a double change! Keep on keepin’ on.
I think it is a good change, this time. Some jerkasses might say that all change is good. SWF seeks rut to wallow in.
Those are some goddamn sexy shoes! I wish I could afford to buy a pair for myself.
You are more deserving of a new computer than anyone. Do spill what kind you are getting so we can all be envious, please.
hovy’s comment makes me think of mounted animal heads, but with dead computers/keyboards/monitors instead of dead animals! New art project!
LOL. I do so love a good rut. It’s all comfy and form-fitted like a broken down sofa. Ahhhhh. Perfect for napping and hiding.
On the other hand, nothing much new happens….
I saw this and thought of you.
http://dsharp.typepad.com/dsharp/2010/05/behold-lovely-lady.html
OOOOOH!
There must be a bad wind blowing, because my friend and I were *just* talking about that time ten years ago when we lived in Brooklyn and were totally broke all the time and every day in our neighborhood was a gauntlet of sexual harrassment and I had an eating disorder and a drug habit and she was hooking up with random dudes and drinking her weight in vodka and we were both miserable…and then getting weirdly nostalgic for that time and place.
I think what was really being missed was not so much the time (the late 90’s were not really that great) or the shitty warehouse apartment (it’s overpriced condos now) or the speed (well, sometimes I miss that a little bit.) I think she and I were really just missing that particular age. At least, I was. I was miserable most of the time, but it still felt like I had plenty of time to find happiness, and in the meantime, I had lots of Interpersonal Drama that Made Me Feel Important. And anyway, I was goth – Misery was practically an accessory. I wasn’t in any rush to accomplish anything big with myself. It was the only time in my life I regularly got the Pretty Girl Discount when I was out and about. I had a job in the basement of an art library and I wore leather pants to work and the guy at the corner bodega knew my name and let me get my six-packs hoy and pay mañana.
Early 20’s was kind of like Puberty II for me, with all the thrills and spills and coming of age and new responsibilities and bad decisions. Transitional points tend to burn brightest in my memory, leading to all sorts of bizarre wistfulness about bad perms, period-stained jeans, bullshit ex-boyfriends and cigarette breakfasts. I can usually snap out of it by finding a photo of me from the offending time period and a mental snapshot of how tired and sad I looked back then.
I like this story. It is making me feel better. Thanks.
“…bad perms, period-stained jeans, bullshit ex-boyfriends and cigarette breakfasts.”
Trademark that tout suite!
I know, wasn’t that awesome??
Aw shucks, thanks.