Welcome To My Hell

Today was my donation of various bodily fluids day. I get $105 for 2 hours of my time. And oddly enough, $80 of the $105 only takes 2-10 minutes…

*Cough*

The blood donation portion of the day was a little hectic. The needle was inserted into my vein incorrectly which caused a hemotoma from my elbow up to my shoulder. I hurts a little. I think the only thing that bothers me is my arm being so stiff. I have to bend it slowly or else it hurts much worse. I did, however, get these really cool bruises thay make me look like a heroin head.

So I just got back from the gas station. I made an interesting observation.

I was standing in line behind this mexican, trashed out, bitch, who was wearing the worst perfume I’ve ever had the displeasure of smelling. And when she left, she walked out the door and got into a Mercedes 500. It killed me. I had trouble deciding between daddy being the District Attorney, or if the car was stolen.

Then shortly after, another girl came in and got in line behind me. Gorgeous. Extremely well dressed. I couldn’t even turn around to see her, but I could practically feel the caring, selflessness, peace corp volunteer vibe coming off of her and hitting me in the back of the head. Then while I was out pumping gas, I saw her come out and get into a car that didn’t look like it was going to make it another 1000 miles.

Amazing.

Oh yeah, I think she just had a rich daddy was all. In case you were wondering.

The second I posted that lost blog, I thought to myself: “Ten bucks says I get a phone call from Heather later today telling me that she’s not important to me because I failed to list her name in my blog entry.”

Guess who I just got a call from.

Christ. That infuriates me. I tell my friends two things when I refer them to my website.

Number one: Do not take everything you read to be the non-translatable, non-contestible, word for word, literal, textbook fucking answer to how I feel, what I do, and what I think.

Number two: Do not bring my website up to me in person. The only way I am able to continue to be open and truthful on my website is if I can maintain the illusion that no one takes the things I say into consideration when interactiing with me.

A fool’s request perhaps. But only one person so far fails to respect it.

Yeah. You do it too. Plus, the title of the blog looks funny following up the last one.

I couldn’t think of a better day to ditch work.

I went with Vann to get his stuff. Had Apollo Burger. Tickled the hell out of Aubrey (and won). Played tetris with Stevie and Aubrey. Talked and bullshitted in Vann’s room while playing Tetris. Got Chinese food. Ate until I almost cried. Watched Beerfest with Vann. Went to the club with Cassie. Went to Dee’s with Ciena and Cassie. Got a bunch of dirty looks from envious people.

All my favorite foods. All my favorite things. All my favorite people.

I should do this more often.

It’s taking every ounce of my will power to not quit work right now. I feel sick. The monotony of this job has wore me down in a record timeframe.Â

Which is it?

It’s funny how far Sara fell. It amazes me that I even had an infatuation with her for the entire 2 months that I did. The transition from ‘Sarah’ to ‘Sara’ to the virtual alter ego ‘Rena’ was quite amazing to observe.

The way she has handled herself the last few months reminds me of those time lapse photo sets of drug users. I asked her last time I saw her, “What happens to you when you finally come out of this stupid phase?”

*sigh* Sara, –Â or should I say Rena? — You know what happened last time I bit the hand that fed? I wound up here.

You’re about to lose your house, your phone, and your friend. For what? For your tattoo’s? For anarchy? For you’re “difficult” childhood? For some poser punk metal kid who looks like I could snap him in half with a well placed kick?

I’ll bet if I looked up poseur on Wikipedia. Your name would be in the article.

Get a clue. Grow up. Pull your shit together. And once you’ve managed that, God help you.

Miss me?

No need to tell me, of course you did.

Last few days have been…Weird…I think.

I’ve been working; Eagerly anticipating a call from WaveLink, if any; And hanging out with Aubrey’s friend Stevie. The last few nights have consisted of little sleep and lots of Tetris. It’s a 3 day rut that for some reason has already grown very old. Yet when I get home I think I’m going to call Stevie, play Tetris, and wonder about Wavelink.

I also bought a 10,000 RPM, 320 GB HD today to store the mass quantites of media on my computer. Only cost me $75. Sweet deal. I did however, have to wake up 4 hours early to go get it. Not so sweet deal.

*yawn* I can’t wait for lunch. I think I may go on time today, rather then purposely postponing it so I only have 3 hours of work left when I get back.

Cassie: Holy hell! That picture of you at the calendar contest…Very nice. I may put it up for all to see. ;)

I have from time to time made referrences to the “Red Sky”. I think only one person really knows what I mean when I say it. The Red Sky is a term that I have attached to the emotion that comes with the synergistic hell of ultimate betrayal and confoundment.

I named it after an analogy I once used to try and describe the emotions and feelings that come with the realization that something you have considered for so long to be the truth, is not the truth at all.

For example. If I ask you, “What color is the sky?” You would say blue without hesitation. As you know, it is blue. You’ve known this trivial fact your entire life. It is a given. That’s the way it is.

Then one day you wake up, get ready for work or school, and when you step outside. The sky is red. Can this be real? “No. It can’t be!” you tell yourself. You squeeze your eyes shut and deny it will all the will of your being. And when you tire of the futile fight to maintain your hold on “reality”, you open your eyes back up — and the sky is still red.

God. Love. The Universe. The Ultimate Question.

All these things have the potential to fall into the Red Sky catagory. Imagine what would happen to a life long devoted Christian if they found out that God didn’t exist. Imagine how confusing it would be to go to sleep at your friends house and wake up in a tent in Antartica. And my favorite, imagine the feeling of your heart failing to beat for an entire minute when you learn that the one you confided in, trusted, and loved the most was the one who stabbed you in the back and left you for someone you always considered to be inferior.

That’s the feeling I speak of. Believing something with everything that you are, then discovering you were wrong.

It’s commonly known as:Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Ebay.
The correct capitalization is:Â Â eBay.
And the logo looks like:Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â ebaY.

Make up your mind. Jeez.

Poking my face out the window in the door every few minutes at 3:00 AM waiting for anyone to come home. It’s not a good feeling being alone. I doubt it could be much worse then the way I felt last night though. Last night between a combination of watching ‘The Family Man’ and feeling utterly alone and unneeded in any fashion, I got so upset I caught myself making the same noise my dog does when he wants attention.

Well, either Vann can come home and I can show him the wallet I made to his likely fabricated and artificial praise, or Aubrey could come home and..

Heh…Aubrey’s not coming home.

So I wait for the Vann. I’m not sure why I even bother to stay up. I just want to show someone my cool wallet and that I fixed the fan in the bathroom. Does anyone know I exist right now? :’(

Took me f’ing 3 hours! Sorry the pictures suck. And no, I will not make you one unless it involves $40.

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This is the way I’ve found to utilize my time this Wednesday. It’s different, but not difficult. It requires alot of thinking ahead so I don’t fuck it up. You can watch me make it on the Webcam if you want.

I may even end up doing a write up on how to make your own because I’m almost certain Vann will want one too.

Vann’s dad Fred took the liberty of cleaning out my wood pellet burner. I am speachless. It’s mine. I take care of it. I clean it. I keep it full of fuel. It’s mine. Hank Hill has his lawn. I have my wood pellet burner. I can’t believe he would do that to me.

It’s ok though. I got him back. I cleaned up and fixed the noisy ventilation fan in the bathroom.

Heh. That’ll show him to clean and maintain my stuff.

I’ve had this itch to start playing music again. Like a pretty bad itch too. I’ve obsessed about it the last few weeks. And being that it will be easier to take up Oboe again then it would be to start piano, I stopped by Summerhays and picked up a new reed. I’m looking forward to getting home and seeing if I can still play the thing. I’d really like some sheet music to play. It’s difficult to play the oboe by ear for me. I’d rather have the way the music is played right in front of me. On that note, (Heh.) I wonder if I can still read sheet music. I think I can. But just the things like playing the key signature correctly might snag me.

Work time.