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Crush enemies, abandon hope, and unleash endless waves of unrepentant sarcasm. |
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There's nothing to see here that's really out of the ordinary. Nothing really terribly interesting either, unless you like griping, gossip, grudges, and possible mental illness. If anything it's some small way to keep myself writing (though you'll see by the dates on the entries that it's by no means an effective way), as well as a means through which I can vent about any number of things that are pissing me off. Occasionally there's pie. Look: I'm not a normal person. I'm suffering from untreated depression and plagued by increasingly frequent migraines that pretty much render me bedridden for days. I've suffered a lifetime of abuse and neglect, and still have to struggle with unfathomable depths of low self-worth, not to mention the eating disorders. I'm a weirdo, a freak, an aberration of nature and human experience . . . but it doesn't make me interesting. So, you can read this if you want. I've got some social commentary that might be a little fun, and occasionally throw in a poem or two, but for the most part it's the ramblings of a stricken mind. Pay no attention to the woman behind the curtain; she's just trying to change her dress. |
| I never write in this thing anymore (if the writings for an online bit of space or a particular "tube" of Internet can be accurately described as being in something). I'm going to try to write in it now, and make an entry every day for a standard month. I ditched work today because I felt weird. I had an unusual night and felt positively out of it when I woke up. I decided my time was better spent unconscious and reading the gift that Will got me for our anniversary, so I called David and Debbie and prayed that one or the other would be in today. This whole AWS [Alternate Work Schedule] thing is very annoying, especially as it renders the monthly calendar that is intended to list all AWS and leave days more or less null. It is one less thing to worry about next month when I turn in my badge, an event of which the proximity might be the reason I feel so flippant about being ill. I should feel frightened and desperate to hold on to every last hour, but at the end of my time there I hope to have perhaps six thousand dollars in a savings account. Back to having no job, rinse and repeat, but with about four thousand more to my name than I had when I first moved to Richmond, a great deal of experience, and some desperately needed references. I've lost my train of thought. I paused to apply for a job at VCU. I hope I get it. I applied for a customer service rep position with the IRS, which frightens me because I would be dealing with taxpayers over the phone. I hate phones, and taxpayers are scary and confused. But I will take it, because I have declared that if I get down to my last thousand and there is no job in sight, I will go to Taboo and buy some little outfits so that I may strip. I do not want to, Will does not want me to, but I will not stave again. CSR is at least a step up from dancing for money. I must go now. Food is an idea, and I have books to read. I tried to catch a falling star, but all I got was this damn pixie. |
| Wow, a week passed already, and I didn't even feel it. I hate it when that happens. It makes me feel like time is running at a different speed than that at which I experience it. I could blink and three days' worth of life is just gone. Maybe I'm just feeling the cold hand of Death himself on my shoulder. So, the meeting with Reggie has given me great hope. He says he is confident that the contracts will be renewed. I asked him, just on the off-chance they are not and we end up sacked, who would take over our duties. He didn't really have an answer for that one, since the office has always employed around two clerks and two assistants. Right now, it's just Pam as our sole clerk, so me, Wayne, and Chandelle getting the boot would put them in a fairly unprecedented situation. So yay, I almost certainly get to keep my job for another year. Reggie will know for certain that we are staying by the end of the month. When that day comes, and my hopes are realized, I'm going to sit down with Buck and Brandon and start the outline for my new desktop. I hear Windows 7 has great reverse compatibility, so Neverwinter Nights and Morrowind should run beautifully. Plus, Maple Story, if I ever get the urge to reload that one. On top of that, a well-designed desky will be able to play Skyrim with no problem. The menfolk have suggested that, being a laptop, my computer would have trouble running it at a good level of graphics. It's such a gorgeous game, I want those graphics at the highest level I can get them. Alas, my Sunday is nearly at an end. Ah well, I will have another weekend before I know it, and this one will come with monies! For now, I will spend my remaining two hours of weekend enjoying me some X-Files. I've only seen the show off and on, and rarely recognized a story arc. It's good to start it at the beginning and work my way through. |
| What? It's true! June has arrived, and the time for governmental budget discussion has begun. Wayne, Chandelle, and I have a little meeting with Reggie (WCC's contract coordinator) on Tuesday to discuss our futures with the IRS. Wayne is certain that we will not be renewed, and he's being quite bitchy about it. It's understandable, I guess: he's been contracted there for three years and still hasn't been hired, so these are years wasted on essentially doing the IRS and working for cheap when he could get way more money in the private sector. Still, I wish he wouldn't take his anger out on the rest of us. His negativity can really get to me after a while, especially when he's slacking off around the office. I work myself into a frenzy under good circumstances, so doing the little bit extra he should have done adds a notch to my headache (though I am getting better about the panicked rush to finish everything at once. An ulcer isn't going to help anyone). But I'm bitching again. I'll know on Tuesday (hopefully) whether I need to start looking for a new job. I would very much like to stay, but I have accumulated a good amount of money, not to mention invaluable administrative experience and references to help with procuring a "for-eber" job. I'm just concerned about Pam, most of all. If they lay us all off, the office will descend into chaos, and it will a mere month or two before they break down and hire more contractors - probably for less than they pay us currently. When that happens, the only person who will be available to train them will be Pam, and she works hard enough as it stands with the three of us helping her. If it wasn't for the hell she may be put through, I would happily sit back and laugh at the customer service mess that management is creating for themselves. My headaches have been getting worse lately. It's becoming rare that I go an entire pay period without having to leave early. I generally try to deal with it and just throw up in the handicapped bathroom when the need arises, but . . . that rather sucks a little. A lot, actually. Gerri tells me to just go home when it gets bad, but A) I need every billable hour I can get now that my employment is uncertain, and B) I've got some guilt complex or something, and I feel terrible missing work due to illness. I also worry that it doesn't look genuine to the others, since my migraines are always increasingly bad as the week goes on. I don't want them to think I'm faking it to get an early start to my weekend. Few things are as offensive to my ego than the idea that someone might think I'm not working or doing as much as I can. I'm still wary of Esther after being seen playing Sudoku for a few minutes after two days of not really taking any breaks for the file purge. Add chronic pain into the accusation and it's a hefty insult. I need to plan some days off so I can go to the Eastern Shore with Will. I met his father and stepmother a few weeks ago, and his mother has been nagging him to bring me down (up?) to meet her. I'd love to see his home. It looks lovely there, and his friends all sound really fun. I also must meet his beagle and cat. I miss doggies, and Harvey . . . well, I'll merely state that what time I spend with Harvey just serves to remind me how awesome Alfie was, and how great Rigel is (I'm not getting him while my parents live: Freddie is permanently upstairs now [finally] and whines nonstop when his little buddy isn't there). I need to spend time with a cat that doesn't occasionally flip out for no apparent reason. I prefer scars that I created myself, thank you very much (note to self: get back on the cocoa butter and vitamin E regimen. These aren't gonna fade if I don't force them to). But yeah, I need to meet Will's family. His dad was really cool, though not as crazy and jovial as I expected (Will affirmed my suspicion that he was behaving well for me). I need to see him again, meet the redneck uncle (also sounds awesome), and wander about the semi-charted wilderness of the Shore . . . as well as party huts in which his crazy friends meet. |
| Holy shit, it's been forever since I wrote in this thing! Sadly I only have twenty minutes before I must leave for work, and I'm not yet dressed, so this is all I can say. |
| I just had sex. To Iron Maiden's album "Dance of Death." Awesome choice, if I say so myself. I won't lie, there was pain, and I ended up finishing him off with my hand. We tried three times, but by the third time my personal lubricant was running low, so I gave up. But, Virgin no more. It doesn't feel different, probably because I've had sex so many times in my head (I am an imaginary slut). I'm just glad to have given my wonderful boyfriend a little gift like sex. He deserves it as much as I, at least when I finally get my vagina used to being used. I feared that he wasn't breaking my hymen (a fear of mine since Jon told me that the hymen can thicken to the point of needing medical intervention for normal sex), However, when I went to the bathroom before showering (freaking port. why must alcohol go right through me?), there was blood on the tissue. Hopefully next time will be easier. I want him to be happy, and I want pleasure. But yes. I am no longer a virgin. I wonder how I will feel about this in the morning? I am not a virgin. I am not a virgin. I am not a virgin . . . right now I really don't care. We'll see what happens in seven hours when I rise for work. |
| So now I have a boyfriend, and he kicks ass. Will and I went to Hollywood Cemetery three weeks ago and he nerd-gasmed talking about the history of the people buried, of some of the specific graves and tombstones, and the cemetery itself. It was overcast and drizzling a bit, which is great weather for graveyard hiking, and the cemetery is absolutely beautiful. He was thrilled that I at no point told him to shut up (good gravy, what sort of girls has he been dating?!), and that I was actually interested. Then we had lunch, hung out at his place with his roommate, then wandered over to a party-ish thing hosted by a friend of his. I freaking love the people he hangs out with. I can talk to them. After the party we headed to 7-Eleven, outside of which he informed me that he had planned to ask me out in Hollywood Cemetery but his mood was disturbed by tourists. He apologized for officiating the relationship in the parking lot of a convenience store, but as I told him, I'm just happy to be dating him. I love that he had the idea to ask me out in a graveyard, but what is important is that we are together and will make many visits to picturesque corpse storage facilities arm-in-arm. And did I mention how awesome he is? We both love horror movies, share Iron Maiden as our favorite band, love our Lovecraft, and enjoy ridiculous, absurd shows like Invader Zim. He's shown me Mega 64, and I've gotten him addicted to Bullshit. He is insanely hot, and thinks I am as well, and is looking forward to winter so he can wear his trench coat. It's a match made in Heaven, if Heaven had zombies and was managed by Cthulhu. |
| There was to be a gathering for Greenie's Birthday, and just for the hell of it, at Virginia Beach. I feared that I could not attend due to having more or less no money at all, but the Brunswick Bunch wanted me to visit so much that Stef offered to pay for my food costs. Apparently she often happily puts out for others, including Shanee, who acts rather entitled to the help. Thanks to Stef, I was free to attend. We spent the first night at Dave's house. He fortunately had two rooms to spare, so perhaps one person ended up on the floor. We walked along the beach at midnight, and I got to suffer the sight of vague shapes skittering about the sand. They were actually the harmless sand crabs, but try explaining that to the phobic mind. Then sleep, then confusion over where to go for lunch (I blame Dave for making a big deal of going to the mall when there were so many other places much closer), and in the meantime Pip and Ray were waiting for us at the beach. Dave and Greenie blamed our tardiness on "Stef Time," but I defended her honor! Kind of. All I said was it wasn't her fault we took half an hour deciding where to eat. So we finally arrive at the beach on a rather cloudy day. No complaints here, as the sun makes the sand agonizing. The water, on the other hand, was not as kind as the beach. I've never felt a current that strong. I was struggling to get to Stef and Sasha, but the undertow kept dragging me off to the left. The waves were rough, too. I was tired within minutes of getting in. But let's get to the part where I almost drowned. Like I said, the current was REALLY strong, and I tried hard to fight the leftward pull. I kept getting into deeper water as I was dragged, which meant the waves were frequently washing over my head. I tried to head for shallower water, but the pull, the pull! It felt like it was pulling me further out to sea. That threat mingled with a complete loss of control over my locomotion sent me into a near panic as the waves continued to crest over my head. I reached out to Dave, who was fortunately nearby, and said, "Help me, it's too strong." So he lifted me up and got me to shallower water. I am fairly embarrassed that I needed to be rescued, but I was in way over my head, and it's better to throw in the towel and annoy someone briefly (though he never said that he was annoyed) than die and ruin everybody's good time. Dying is just so inconsiderate. |
| Still no job, no money, and no life. Things with Will seem to be promising, so I will work toward that. Otherwise, things kinda suck. |
| So it has come to this, has it? Sean is moving into the house in August, and Brandon needs a room to put him in. Because of this, he is kicking out either myself or Kaia, for our back rent problems. I may soon be homeless unless I can prove to him that I have the ability to start paying my rent on a regular basis . . . a thing I was able to do while I was working and before the big crash late last year. I'm scared to death, because I don't want to leave. I like it here in Richmond, and I like my friends. It's better than anything I could hope for in Orange, and the people here don't make me want to walk off a building, like my parents do. But I'm also annoyed. Yeah, I owe him a great deal of money, but nowhere near as much as Kaia owes him. The last time we tallied up debt, I owed him about 1200 dollars. Then I got my job, and was able to pay consistently, and managed to give him a little extra to lower the debt. Then I missed July after being laid off. That's about three and a half months of back rent, as opposed to SIX months that Kaia owes. And I've HAD a job that allowed me to pay, and just need to find a replacement. She hasn't been able to pay hardly at all. I feel like I deserve some preference in this matter. I don't want to throw her under the bus. She is my friend, and I enjoy having her around. But her dad lives here in Richmond, so why not stay there for a bit? Or why not move in with any one of the number of people she knows? She has a place to go that wouldn't disrupt her life too much, even if she is stuck on a couch. I really don't have options. There's always the option that I just bunk with her in the dining room, which is better than losing everything, but still a pain. She keeps a very different schedule than what I keep, often staying bed until late afternoon. I also know she has a mad sex life, and that's going to cause a LOT of problems. It's going to be a tight fit, and I really love my room here. I am willing to make this compromise if I have no other choice, but I will do my damned best to keep my room here. I have some people interested in working with me. If I can earn enough money by modeling, I may be able to stay here and keep my room. I know Brandon is picking on me partially because Sean, who can pay, prefers a room upstairs to the wall-less dining room, but if need be I can move downstairs after Kaia gets kicked out. I feel like she has shown less aptitude for paying than I, especially as she has no bank account and no savings. She nickles and dimes to buy a can of tea; I at least have SOMETHING saved (even if it is just eighty bucks apart from what's in checking). I know I can manage life if I can get a good job, and modeling sounds like a damn good bet to at least have SOMETHING. If I must, I shall apply to food places. In fact, I may as well do that this week. Apparently it's a guaranteed 40 hours, which kicks ass. And my allergies haven't been that bad lately, so my fears of sniffling while handling food may be unfounded. I gotta try. I just gotta try. Oddly enough, after hearing the news and wandering zombie-like to Subway, I heard this announcement over the radio. It was shockingly clear, considering that I usually block out the radio in stores, so I wonder if I was meant to hear it? The woman said, "I know life is rough right now. Whatever struggles you're facing, whatever trials you're going through in your life, it will get better. Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not the day after tomorrow, maybe not next week, but it will get better." I'm going to try to believe that, and fight for it to become a reality. |
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