Tuesday, April 20, 2004

Life, the Universe, and Everything


It was only recently that I remembered that number. My roomate's boyfriend had an away message that simply said "42" and well, it was scary. I knew exactly what he meant.

Random Rant

Stupid people get on my nerves. Stupid is a subjective term, because by stupid, I don't mean ignorant, and I don't mean unintelligent. I mean people who have the capacity to be perfectly normal, or at least perfectly civil, human beans, and choose not to be. You can be creative, eccentric, and even a little odd... I am myself... but PLEASE don't subject me to your random bouts of egocentricity. Don't make me listen to you lecture the world on how much better you are, how much more intelligent, how much more wise or knowledgable, cultured... I really don't care. Because to be perfectly honest, if you feel the need to tell me you are better than I am, I don't care. Be more intelligent, more wise, more cultured... people will notice. *twitch* And don't re-explain what I just told you, either! I wish a plague of Black Mage on you! *stabbity stabbity stabbity*

Hello, my name is Kentucky Fried Chicken, and I am a thinkaholic.

It started out innocently enough.

I began to think at parties now and then to loosen up. Inevitably though, one thought led to another, and soon I was more than just a social thinker.

I began to think alone -- "to relax," I told myself -- but I knew it wasn't true. Thinking became more and more important to me, and finally I was thinking all the time.

I began to think on the job. I knew that thinking and employment don't mix, but I couldn't stop myself. I began to avoid friends at lunchtime so I could read Thoreau and Kafka.

I would return to the office dizzied and confused, asking, "What is it exactly we are doing here?"

Things weren't going so great at home either. One evening I had turned off the TV and asked my husband about the meaning of life. He spent that night at his mother's.

I soon had a reputation as a heavy thinker. One day the boss called me in. He said, "I like you, and it hurts me to say this, but your thinking has become a real problem. If you don't stop thinking on the job, you'll have to find another job."

This gave me a lot to think about.

I came home early after my conversation with the boss. "Honey," I confessed, "I've been thinking..." "I know you've been thinking," He said, "and I want a divorce!"

"But Honey, surely it's not that serious."

"It is serious," He said, lower lip aquiver. "You think as much as college professors, and college professors don't make any money, so if you keep on thinking we won't have any money!"

"That's a faulty syllogism," I said impatiently, and he began to cry.

I'd had enough. "I'm going to the library," I snarled as I stomped out the door.

I headed for the library, in the mood for some Nietzsche, with NPR on the radio. I roared into the parking lot and ran up to the big glass doors... they didn't open. The library was closed. To this day, I believe that a Higher Power was looking out for me that night.

As I sank to the ground clawing at the unfeeling glass, whimpering for Zarathustra, a poster caught my eye. "Friend, is heavy thinking ruining your life?" it asked.

You probably recognize that line. It comes from the standard Thinker's Anonymous poster. Which is why I am what I am today: a recovering thinker.

I never miss a TA meeting.

At each meeting we watch a non-educational video; last week it was "Porky's." Then we share experiences about how we avoided thinking since the last meeting. I still have my job, and things are a lot better at home.

Life just seemed ... easier, somehow, as soon as I stopped thinking.

Friday, April 16, 2004


I was going to post lots of happy things that I have been doing lately. I was also going to work on my post about the fragility of life that has been brewing in my head for more than a month now... perhaps these things may come in time. I don't know. I was also thinking of starting me post "I am a horrible best friend," but I don't really think that I am. I am emotionally frail, my body is drained of every bit of good energy, but I am not a horrible best friend. I did the best I could do under the circumstances presented me. And now I am trapped inside a bubble with a horrible secret, the possession of which is my own fault. Something had to be done. And this was it.

Tuesday, April 13, 2004

Read the previous post firstI'm still weird...

So, Friday was a little bit traumatic, but Saturday was better. We (meaning me, Tara, and Shannon) decided to go to a matinee in Maryville on Saturday, and Shannon agreed to bring Nathan, too. So we all piled into the explorer and headed about 30 minutes south to Maryville. I got to sit in the back with Nathan (don't worry, Mom) and talk and maybe cuddle a little bit as we rode down there, but when we got to movie theater, we realized that, not only were they not showing any good movies at that little theater, but the first one didn't start until 3:15. This was a problem because Nathan had to go somewhere else in Maryville at 4, so we decided not to do the movie thing at all. Instead, we followed Shannon around first Maurices and then JC Penney as she searched for clothes. Then the four of us went to Wal Mart and wandered around for awhile, I got my pictures developed. We dropped Nathan off near the North West University library around 3:30 and went back to Tarkio. We stayed at the house and napped all that afternoon. Tara and I made chocolate chip cookies completely from scratch. Unfortunately, when I was taking the first batch out of the oven, I used the wrong potholder and burned my hand badly. I had it in cold water for over three hours and it was still burning badly enough to make me cry the moment my hand left the water. Finally, we just bandaged the darn thing and I held an ice cube in a sandwhich back wrapped with a towel in my hand until it all melted. At this point I finally fell asleep, and woke up the next morning just fine. It should have blistered. But Mrs Riley prayed for it, and when I finally took the bandage off, the skin was shiny and red, but there was no blister. It stung a little when the air first touched it, but even that pain disappered quickly. Its quite amazing.

Sunday. We dressed up and went to church. The sermon was vaguely about Christ's crucifixtion. Vaguely. I got claustrophbic standing in the lobby waiting to leave after church was over, I think the entire congregation of the church, including children, was all shoved into this very small space. There were so many people there! All the pews were full, and they had to fill the back and aisles with chairs from the Sunday School Rooms. They didn't even have the nursery open, so all of the children were in service. Anyway, we finally left the church, went back to Tara's, and changed. Then we went to her grandmother's house for lunch, and I met her mom's entire family with the exception of her Uncle Larry. Let me see if I can remember them all...

There were her grandparents, Mr and Mrs Barr. Then there was Mr. and Mrs. Riley, Tara and Shannon (Bridget was at work), Tara's Aunt Robyn, Robyn's daughters Toby, Carrie and Jaime. Toby is married to Matt, who wasn't there, and their daughter is a baby, I forget her name. Carrie is married to Gary, and their sons are Austin and Remington. Tara's Uncle Kim was also there. Her Aunt Robyn's husband wasn't there, and I don't know his name. Whew!

We went back to Tarkio and packed up the car. We stopped by Pamida to get some drinks and snacks for the trip, and I called Nathan's house. We were supposed to see him before we left, take him some cookies that we made and get my birthday present... and he wasn't there!! But Kema, his mom, told us to come on by, and she would give me my talking teddy bear (its blue, and what it says is for me to know and you... not to find out! *grins*) from Nathan. Turns out his friend gave him five minutes notice that he was leaving to take Nathan back (which is so not fair!) to his dad's house, and so I didn't even get to say goodbye. *sniffles* That done, we came back to Springfield, and I went to work at midnight. And that was my weekend!

Be good, watch T.V.

Monday, April 12, 2004

I am so weird

I just got back from Tarkio. *dances* Easter was fun, although Tara's church is a bit... odd. Her grandmother is a wonderful cook! I saw Nathan on Friday. *blinks* That was a bit traumatic. I've never actually TOLD Tara's parents we were dating. Her mom knew because she saw us holding hands last time I was up there... but her dad didn't. Tara's dad hates Nathan, for no reason that I can tell except that his cousin Kema, Nathan's mom, is probably his least-favorite family member. The point is this: It wasn't any of his business. I just didn't want him to be horrid to Tara over it, as he has a nasty habit of blaming my beloved roomie for everything. At the same time, I've felt like I was being a bit disloyal to mi querido, as though I was ashamed of him, by not saying anything. ALL OVER NOW!

Tara and I walked up to Nathan's house about 4:45, but we had to be back by 6:30, 7:00 for dinner. So we left around 6:15, and Nathan wanted to walk us back part of the way (he tries to stay away from Mr. Riley, so he wouldn't go all the way) We saw Bridget and Mrs Riley on main street, and realized that dinner wouldn't be ready for sometime, so we decided to walk around town. As we walked down the street, Nathan and Tara's friend D.j. drove past, so we followed him around the corner. We met up with him and stopped to talk for probably 20 minutes. Then Tara's dad drove up, looking for us. He summoned Tara to his window, and proceeded to inform her that he was going to "have a talk with us" (yell) and that we were to come back to the house immediately. This was, I suppose, due to the fact that Nathan had his arm around my shoulders, and I suppose D.J. looked "dangerous" because he was wearing a trenchcoat. And the town bar was just up the block a little ways. *sighs* I cried. I know what they did to Erika, Tara's old roomate, when they were mad at her, and wasn't looking forward to the same treatment. I didn't want to be unwelcome to come to their home, and I HATE being yelled at. Hate. HATE. Nathan walked us to the corner, kissed me goodbye (we didn't know if we were going to be able to see each other again) and watched us walk back. That was so hard. I called my mom before we went in... she said Mr. Riley had no right to yell at me and that I had my parent's blessing to date Nathan, and that it was none of his business. And guess how it turned out?

Mrs. Riley had already yelled at HIM. Told him I was 21 and what I did wasn't his business. He thought we had come out of the bar and been drinking!!! And he was mad about me and Nathan. Her only concern was that I hadn't talked to my parents and that if "something" happened my parents would blame them. *cough* I proceeded to tell her what my mom said to me, and also that, "I have nothing at all to be ashamed of. I love Nathan, and there is nothing 'bad' about our relationship." I also reassured her that nothing was going to "happen." Geez. What on earth would make people that either Nathan or I would be sleeping together? *blinks* I know that some people do, duh, but ME? As if anyone cares or needs to know (don't care if you do though) we barely even kiss at all! I haven't even been alone with him more than five minutes. And DRINKING? Oi. *sighs* So thats about all that came of that, cept D.j. offered to drive Nathan down here once a month IF Mr Riley decided I wasn't welcome to come up there anymore. AcK! I have to go to work, more in a bit.

Wednesday, April 07, 2004


I think I have the most adorable boyfriend in the world! He sent me this picture, and I think its so cute!

Be good, watch T.V.


You know, I am terrified of people reading my blog now *lol* I think I put too much "I'm depressed" crap in here... I should put other stuff... *hmms*


Sometimes you have to wonder if the Fates and Fortune have it in for you. There you are, the perfect example of Murphy's Law when suddenly THEY decide its time to turn your life into a Martini (shaken, not stirred) Graceless, lonely, nothing but a pretty good family and a keen mind to speak of and THEY decide to throw you for a loop. I mean, whats with that? Sometimes you have to stop and wonder how you got so lucky. Sometimes the pain of loving hurts so much, but the void it would leave if it left is a far more terrible picture. Sometimes its hard to imagine that anyone could care as much as you do, and sometimes you are afraid that you care too much. Sometimes its crazy to think that everybody was wrong. You know, everybody. Everybody said you would never deserve this. Everybody said no one could ever love you. Everybody thought you would always be alone, and everybody knew that was exactly as it should be. And then, its like God becomes a cosmic Emeril, shouts "BAM" and suddenly there is this new spice that you never ever thought should be mixed with you, and the genius of it is this... In any world but Emeril's, it wouldn't! And everything comes together and you wonder how you ever lived without that spice in your life. Now you are afraid of using it too much, or making that spice hate you. You wonder what would happen if the spice notices that there are a lot better herbs out there... but that's going a bit far. So there is God mixing it up with the Fates and Fortune, and you know He has a plan for the whole crazy mess, but from down here it just looks like a crazy mess. And where does that leave you? A party up in heaven, but they left the best angel right there with you... and you think, "Hey, isn't that where he should be?" And you hang on tight, because this is one martini that never wants to see life the same way again!

And what is this randomness, you ask? This is what happens when you get really really bored, sitting somewhere you can't leave and listening to someone boring talk. The worst thing is that I can't remember where I was...

Be good, watch T.V.

Saturday, April 03, 2004

And yet again...

To the good news... As always, I have the bestest parents in the world! They fixed what I didn't do, and filed my FAFSA for me, as well as my taxes (well, I have to sign them, but they did them anyways) My mom also did my car registration... My mom and dad rock my world...

I, obviously, didn't go to banquet. Well, maybe not obviously, but I definitely didn't. And by that one simple fact, I have made yet another series of my all too frequent mistakes. Well, its more of a combination of many things. Lemme esplain... no no, is too long, lemme sum up:

Tara has been down lately, and a lot of that is probably my fault. I have been depressed, for many reasons and for no reason at all. I don't sleep, and my eating habits are sporadic (as in, I'm lucky if I remember to eat once a day) I'm getting behind in school work. Not trying to, but I am, a little overwhelmed. I miss Nathan more everyday; It is some indefinable thing that makes seeing him different. Even to know he was close to me would be enough, he wouldn't even have to say a word. Compound this with the typical me problems and well...

So Tara has also been having some problems, and like a blundering dolt I have forced her to endure my selfish tears and pity parties. Its always about me, about how I feel, why my life sucks, how hard a time I am having, I am so pitiful, blah blah blah. But I am not entirely selfish, and I do love Tara dearly, and I want to make things better for her... and failed miserably *see 'blundering' above* She is a beautiful sweet wonderful person, and I just don't know how to convince her to see it. I knew I couldn't go to the banquet, but Tara had a dress, jewelry, shoes... I wanted her to go. I knew she would have fun!! She wasn't convinced, but I was. So even though I was really bummed for myself, I tried to make sure that she knew I wanted her to go. Made her a wrap to go with her dress (love sewn into every stitch, my friends), bought her make-up and a certain sundry item necessary for her dress to fit right, did her hair and make-up tonight. (not very well, I suppose, but I did my very best) I gave her my camera and some film to take pictures to send people... Tara is naturally beautiful, and tonight I think she was stunning. And I don't think that it is a biased opinion. I really really wanted her to have a good time... but I ruined it all. All because I was mad at certain other people in the party. I allowed my anger at them to eat at me, and I was miserable and alone all night. So lonely, and if I had tried to get out of it instead of wallowing, then you would be allowed to pity me, but I didn't and you aren't. Finally, around 11:45, after quite a few people had arrived back from Branson I realized that the banquet was long over... and I got tired of waiting. Already hurt by the seeming lack of care from my other 'friends', the thought that they decided to go out after banquet and still not include me was unbearable... so I left. I assumed they wouldn't return until curfew. I didn't want Tara to worry if she got back and I was no where to be found (especially since I had a depressed away message up (which she changed!!! lol)) So I told her that I was tired of being in this stupid room, that I was sad they went somewhere with out me, and that I hoped she had a wonderful time tonight. I left my # in case she got worried. It took me a few minutes to get ready to go, but I left. I walked past many couples dressed for the evening in colorful gowns and snappy tuxes, feeling more melancholy as I went along. I unlocked my car door, and just as I was getting in, Andy pulled up next to me, cheerful and happy. I was so annoyed, I said, "I can't talk, I'm leaving" and got in my car. He tried to get me to talk for a second, but I waved him away, and pulled out of that parking lot faster than was probably feasable. I just drove down Glenstone and back up, I even considered going to a bar just because I could. Then that whole moral compas thing kicked in, and I thought to myself, "You idiot! Yeah, go drink when you're depressed, that will surely turn you into a proper alcoholic!" I know, even thinking it for five seconds was STUPID, but I did think it. And realized how dumb I was. Anyway, about the time I turned around on south Glenstone, Tara called. I was sort of crying and not really wanting anyone to know, and so I think I was kind of abrupt on the phone. I told her I didn't know when I would be back, that I was glad she had fun, and that unless she wanted to come with me (she didn't) I wasn't going to come back in the next few minutes. I ended up at Wal Mart shopping for her easter basket instead (I get to give it to her on Sunday). On my way home, I got pulled over for my stupid headlight (NOT AGAINST THE LAW IN KENTUCKY) I think its a short, as it used to work until someone messed with it, and the brights still work. Anyway, he just wanted to make sure I knew, and told me to get it fixed, no big. I knew he wouldn't do anything about it, because there was no traffic and he had been following me for awhile, so he knew I was driving safely. (I didn't know a police officer was following me, just that there was a car behind me. I even stopped at a four way stop in the middle of a no traffic at all area, and that was when he pulled me over... but I was actually driving the speed limit. Exactly. I also, um, didn't have my seat belt on, and as soon as those lights started flashing, I tugged it on... never before been so glad the my seatbelt sits the way it does, because there was no way he could tell without standing next to my window looking in if I had it on or not.. and by the time I was all the way pulled over, it was on.) Anyway, I got back to school and Tara had written ME a note... and I feel horrid. More horrid. She thinks I hate her and that I wish she hadn't had fun and that I didn't want her to go. It wasn't that at all, folks! But that is what I made her think *sighs* Someday I'll learn to shut up. Oi.

Be good! (watch T.V.)