I'm bad at this thing happiness

I'm in a funk. Not the good kind that involves riding the roller coaster of love, either. I don't even have the energy to complain. It's just so typical.
The day is pretty much a total loss. But that's all right because my washing machine sort of works if I wash everything on the delicate cycle in cold water.
No. I don't understand it either.
And I was out of laundry detergent so I had to use dish soap.
Yes. I know I live less than a hundred yards from a grocery store. I didn't want to go there. If I can't bring myself to go out and buy beer, you think I'm going to go out and buy laundry detergent? Hardly.

I really have nothing to say. Not sure why I'm updating at all. Just so people know I'm alive, I guess.

I'm great. Couldn't be better. Life's a happy game! Shiny, happy people laughing. Everybody wang chung tonight.

And I think it's gonna be a long, long time

Holy shit dudes! I was at the big ass mall today, spending money like I have it and I bought some hideous shoes. I only wear hideous shoes. It's a thing with me. Anyone that owns three pairs of green suede shoes is not a fan of tasteful footwear. These particular hideous shoes are dark green and beige. They're fairly tame. And I guess technically I know own four pairs of green suede shoes. ANYWAY-my point is, I paid $40 bones for these shoes and felt guilty about it. I'm not exactly a big participant in sport. I don't need expensive shoes. I just want them.
Apparently they're the brand new super ultra occurring over-priced shoe for the fashion conscious sucker.
I got a seriously good deal on these shoes. I'd never pay that much for them.
For the price of a pair of jeans, a blazer, 2 t-shirts (one screenprint, one not), a peasant top, a long sleeve shirt AND the shoes I could buy the shoes regular price.
WAHAHAHAHA!!!!
I rule.

Happy 4:20 hippies.
Hope you're in full fledged rocket man mode by now.

Same cold I've had for 6 months. Can't seem to shake it.

I have a cold.
It's unpleasant.
That commercial where the nerdy dude keeps calling for his dog, "Mr. Barky Von Schnauzer" is classic. Right up there with the "Pretty Pretty Panda" commercial from a few years back.
My job is the boringest boring that ever boringed.
But I can do it high.
So there are upsides.
I have no tolerance for cold medicine.
Sudafed fucks me up.
SRSLY.
I prefer not feeling every atom as it collides with my body.
That's a very strange sensation best saved for non-work situations.
So I had to work all day with my throat all chafey and my nose all stuffy and my head all fuzzy.
I'm not going to NYC for the interview.
Conversations and emails have cemented my belief that it is flattering, but not the right thing to do.
Otherwise.
Yeah.
Nothing.
Blech.

They can see no reasons-Cuz there are no reasons

It's country night on Idol. I want Sanjaya to sing "Beer for my Horses"--NO! "How do you like me now?"--NO! "Who's Yr Daddy?"--OH FUCK! AYTHING BY TOBY KEITH!!! That would be beautiful and I would spend all of my House commercial breaks and General Hospital viewing time voting for him.

I advanced to the intervew stage with NYC Teaching Fellowship. I'd applied whilst in the same basic state as inspired me to buy Rudebox. I didn't think I'd get anywhere with it.
I won't be interviewing I don't think. I'd have to travel to NYC and spend a few days in a hostel and not even get to see Jon Stewart or Stehen Colbert. It would cost many dollars and then I'd probably get the job and take it because I'm an adrenaline junky and then I'd get stabbed by a pissed off 16 year old boy who didn't get good enough grades to stay on the football team and the only eulogy I'd get would be four words from Pop: "I told her so."

So, as exciting as a weekend in New York would be, I'm going to save it up and try to get there to see TDS and TCR in the summer. I'm trying to get that teaching thing rolling, but maybe it's best if I stick it out here in Nashvegas. In a ghetto that only gets one murder a year. Where the helicopters only pass over a couple of times a summer. When the hoodlums are more interested in getting beer than drawing blood.

I'm kidding, you know. About some of that. It's not really a ghetto here. It's more like a grotto.

The weather's better, anyway.

We'll steal your heart. And your lawnmower.

Other news doesn't exist.

Yesterday's news was very upsetting. It doesn't even seem real. I know it is. But it's hard to believe.

Coupland is giving me the psycho-puppy eye. You know the one.

Tonight on House--I dunno. Something cool. Quick House rant-
Dear H/W Fandom:
I know that it pains you that they aren't in a lot of scenes together anymore. I know you watch the show because of the awesome chemistry they possess. And the prettty. Stop pretending it's not about the pretty. I know you want hot chocolate covered House/Wilson action.
Not only do I respect that--I totally want that.
That's why I read/write the pr0n. Kinky, dirty, graphic porn. SRSLY, you ship a gay pairing, that's all your going to get. GTFO.
They're friends. Unbelievably attractive men that happen to be friends. But, do you have friends? Do you see them all the time? Do you get along with them all the time? NO! Does that mean you aren't friends with the other person? Again---NO.
Oh, dear, fandom. I'm so fond of you. You're full of awesome people with great wit and charm. Why do you have to be so damned stupid?
There's never going to be even a hug between the two. A kiss is out of the question. A relationship? Are you kidding me?
I want that. I would be THRILLED to see two men express affection and romantic love on primetime network television. That would make me very happy. I hold out hope that I'm wrong. But I'm not going to give up on the show because there's no signs that's going to happen.
I've watched a lot of TV in my day. I've been in a lot of fandoms.
Guess what?
You can't always get what you want.

Why you so nasty?

Today:
Watched the OC.
Called the temp agency and said I'd like to be in the hopper for other assignments.
Realized that whilst in a state of altered consciousness I'd purchased Rudebox on iTunes.
Damned iTunes. Damned them to HELL!
Gathered together my transcripts and started the ball rolling towards that teaching certification I want this week.
Listened to Rudebox. I bought it, might as well enjoy it.
If this wasn't Robbie, I would hate this album. But it is Robbie. So I think it rocks on about the level of Sing When You're Winning but not as much as Escapology.
Went out looking for new awesome trainers, t-shirts, a satchel and a book by Doris Egan that no one is surprised to find out wasn't available at the mall book store.
Bought nothing.
Treated myself to lunch at that Chinese joint in the strip mall down the road from the mall.
Took the beast to the dog park.
Wrote the smuttiest thing I've ever imagined much less put in print.
Ate cold Chinese food.
Watched General Hospital.

If I stopped lying I'd just disappoint you

That's about the gist of it. Yeh.

Years ago someone I used to be friends with accused me of being an addict. I don't know if it was because I'd related a story involving Vicodin and alcohol or because I quoted this song in the title of the post.
Fucking lot of difference it makes at this late date. But I wonder what prompted the accusation.

Today is not a good day. No. It's not.

Out of curiosity, I read my journal from '01-'05. I was lonely then, too. I drank too much. I hated people. I hated myself. I was blunt to the point of being rude. I was obsessed with TV. I liked the idea of men making out. I hated financial advice and listed fuck and all its fucking cognates as my favorite swearword. (That's funny to a very select few, I promise. Especially when the date of the statement-Fall 2003-is taken into consideration.) I loved Todd Snider and Robbie Williams and my dog.
The only thing that's changed is that the dog. I love my dog. But it's a different dog.

I am a rock. I am an island.

In the morning, I go to work. For eight and a half hours I work in silence. In the evening, I come home. For five hours, I sit in silence.
The last incoming call on my phone was received one week ago. The last incoming call not from my mum was two weeks ago.
I've managed to become 75% solitary. The other 25%? Most of that I spend wishing I was alone.
Awesome. Now if I can just come up with a way to curb my hatred for the people I have to deal with daily (Or, failing that, at least not feel compelled to state how stupid I find them in a stage whisper that easily reaches the back row) and increase my chances of being around people I like life would be perfect.
No, it wouldn't. I'd come up with something else to bitch about.
Don't even get me started on the weeding process. It would bore you and piss me off. Just thinking about it pisses me off. So, I'll leave it at that.

Happy Hughsday. Tonight's episode: Plague on a Plane!

Good evening ladies and jelly spoons. I bring you---The Pretty!

PICSPAM!!!!!1
Quick, someone hide my credit card. I've stumbled uponThe Who Shop I think the curtains would look wicked cool in my bedroom. And I totally need a Ten Doll.
Wouldn't you want a doll that looked like this to cuddle?


Or a person that looked like that to cuddle. Cuz meow.

Watched Casino Royale today. If David Tennant is busy I'd accept Daniel Craig.


Wouldn't you? Of course you would. Unless you've recently gone blind. Poor darling.

Now. What do these two men and my other great TV/Movie crushes have in common?










Theories:
-Most of them are Britsh
-Five of the six have dark blond/light brown hair (I'm pushing it a bit with Hugh, but it's close)
-Blue eyes prevail
-Glasses baby. Four of the six are regularly seen wearing glasses
-They're all intellectuals (Except maybe Daniel Craig. I know nothing about him. But he's such a fine piece of man meat that I don't care. I only refrained from posting the nude photo because I don't want to be NSFW)
-That a seriously pensive bunch of dudes. I tell you what.
-None of them would notice me in a crowd.

Anyone else have any theories? I'm open to suggestions.

That was unexpected. What do I do now? Could we start again please?

Today was much more productive than I had planned on it being. I wanted to wile away my Zombie Jesus Day watching attractive British men do attractive things. Preferably things that involved taking off as much of their clothing as the censors would allow. Alas, I had to do laundry. Then a hose came loose off the stupid damn washing machine. I'm pretty sure it's an important hose, too. Not one of those superfluous hoses washing machine manufacturers like to add to throw people off. So, I had to go to the store to buy a mirror (to use to locate the place where the hose was supposed to connect, duh). But this is the Bible Belt and Dollar General isn't open on Easter. So I had to go to Kroger, but I don't need any new make-up and I already have a 5x magnifying mirror, so I didn't get the thing I went to the store for.

What I did get was one of those big ass Reese's Peanut Butter Eggs that are the high point of the season. Candy, candy, candy! Everything is better with candy! BLAAAAA!!!!!1

Yeah, so there's that. And there was the walking of the dog and the hanging and bringing in and folding and all that crap of the laundry. It's not done yet. I have to make my bed. Or sleep on a pile of bedding. That could work.

I wrote a bit and was convinced by Mum that I should save my take away meal for a night when I didn't have all day to come up with something to eat. Oh, the tragedy of logic! I wrote some more. Close to 1500 words today. That's nothing if I'm trying to make a living at it, but it's pretty good for a hobby.

Dead Poet's Society was on TCM today. I couldn't not watch it. And there was much wailing and gnashing of teeth. No! Neil! No! Just hold on a couple of years, things will get better I promise! Oh, dammit Neil! It isn't Mr. Keating's fault! Todd! Don't sign! Don't sign the statement Todd! Oh Captain! WAAAAHHHH!
I love that movie.
It reminded me about my interest in being an inspiration to future generations and how there are no inspirational librarians in film history. Except for Marian. And Mary in the world where George was never born. And probably a lot of women in pornos. But are those really inspirational characters? I suppose it depends on your definition of the word.

The house is organized a little bit. There's a new episode of Doctor Who to locate. I apologize if I've been a bitchy or more callous than usual lately. This is a tough time of year for me. Some shit I haven't bothered to work through. Nothing I can't deal with.

I'm trying to remember if it ever came up in conversation with the sister and her BF that "Could we start again please?" is my favorite song from my favorite musical, Jesus Christ Superstar. I'm further trying to come up with the statisticas probability, if it didn't come up, of her dating someone whose favorite musical is Jesus Christ Superstar. And his favorite song from said musical? "Could we Start Again, Please?" That no one in that scenario is a follower of that Jesus fellow is even stranger.

Another week starts tomorrow. Oh. The excitement. The neverending glee.

I'd rather hear some truth tonight than entertain your lies

Keanu Reeves continues to get work. The mind boggles. I'm a better actor than that guy. And I'm at least as hot. So, what's the attraction?
I'm watching the Lake House. Well, the Lake House is on. And I'm denying myself the urge to watch it. Because it looks awful. I would never watch something so sappy. I do not have such a soft heart. Oh, no, I do not. This movie is going to piss me off. I can tell.

It's going to get colder tonight. How crummy.

My landlady's dog has cancer. She will probably go completely insane soon. She's close enough now. The loss of her dog will probably be the last straw. She asked me today how my "little dog" was doing. Before she told me about hers. I think she wanted to hear mine wasn't well. No. I don't think. That's what she wanted. I could see it on her face. No one is good. Some people just put on a better facade than others. It is such a waste of time to do that: waste time being nice. No one benefits.

In the realm of the job, I realize that I have been relieved of my last bastion of humanity. I no longer have to feign niceties or politeness. My days are chock full of no one to speak to and work imposed (but appreciated) silence. I no longer have to pretend to be friendly. If a fight breaks out, it isn't my problem. If every line on the phone rings simultaneously, I don't have any obligation to answer. Nothing is my problem. I have no responsibility beyond showing up. It's refreshing. I'm no longer a member of human society. People say you can't live your life alone. But I do. And I'm not unhappy.

What?

I'm not. Just because you would be, that doesn't mean I am.

This movie is seriously cheesy. Beyond cheesy. I've had con queso that contains less cheese. Why am I watching this crap? I am in a house sadly lacking in those peanut butter eggs that are so delicious.

Life. Is so uncertain.

All this flowing water has my mind wandering.

I only left the house today because I was out of coffee. The trip to the corner also served as the dog outing. I didn't sleep well last night. The end of the last post was written at 4am. I didn't get back to sleep until close to 7 and I was back up by 9. Add in the whole sleeping on the couch until 3am and you have the perfect recipe for a crummy night.

What a miserable waste of a day. Yet, I can't complain. It was fine. I didn't have to pretend to be nice or carry on conversations. No books needed withdrawn or shelves shifted. No one threatened to pop a cap in anyone's ass. The weather sucks. No reason to go out. I wanted a bit to go out, but not enough to actually do it. The dishes got washed. I forgot but remembered all day (yes, it's possible-the fact was more like a nagging somthing's going on today, I'm sure of it, feeling) that it's Good Friday. I guess everyone but me will be doing Easter dinner together at the folks'. I'm going to get some Chinese food (I wish someone delivered) and watch BBC America or something exciting like that. I've got Casino Royale to watch. That James Bond is a sexy mother (shut your mouth).

Maybe I should turn in early. Nothing on telly. I could re-read more of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. My plan is to re-read them all before Deathly Hallows comes out. Doesn't that sound terribly exciting? Oh yes.

Do you have someone to hang out with? Do you have someone to hug and kiss you? Are you alright?

There's a hiring freeze at my place of indentured servitude. That is good for me. Means I get to keep working off my pennance. Kids, don't do what I have done. It'll fuck you up but good.
Even without therapy I know I still shouldn't be punishing myself for that. I've paid for it for years. So many times over. The punishment is worse than the crime. The crime was one of innocence. It's time to let go. But if I did that I'd have to come to terms with all the reasons why I despise myself so much. And even on days like today, when I'm in a good mood, I hate myself. I think I'm brilliant and witty and better than most people, but I can't stand me. My irrational vanity doesn't help matters.

Ahh, but anyway...the job is secure. I'm trying to convince myself to go to school and become a librarian. I've got tons of experience, I'm good at it, there's a decent job outlook, it's boring as fuck. I should do it because of all but the last reason. I shouldn't because it doesn't interest me in the slightest. But, 40 Grand a year...I'd be rich. I could have a new car and a house with a fenced in yard for the dog and I could even buy dangerous and over-priced toys to keep me amused. In my spare time I could write stories and go to shows and play with my over-priced toys. And I'd be employable anywhere. It would pretty much be a fair trade. Giving up on ever working at a job that excites me somehow for security. Would it? Would it be fair to me? I honestly don't know. What's the other option? Life as a temp eternal? Hangin' in the chow line? Am I so desperate for some kind of adventure that I need to be on the edge of survival in order to be interested in life?

Yep. I think so.

I'm healthy.

The added zing comes from the fact that I never do anything. I could do lots of things. I live in a fairly interesting town. Opportunities present themselves to me regularly. Yet, I never go out. I'm never around people. I pass up the chance to be with people to spend quality time watching Tivo'd episodes of Doctor Who and House. I am such a waste of humanity. If I didn't enjoy my company so much I'd probably end it all.

Speaking of the Doctor. Woo! New season! How happy does that make me? Very, very happy. That's how happy. I love Ten. He's so geeky. It's fantabulous. And Nine! Oooh! Nine! Word's that Torchwood is coming to BBCA! Jack! Science fiction nerds rule the school.
I was tellin' Mum about how I was able to watch a British television program on my little 3" iP-od screen today. She said it was like the post-modern equiv of the transitor radio. Only cooler. Because instead of just sound from far away, you get sight. I loved that. Since she doesn't know about that story I wrote about radios--that makes it much cooler. Martha is very cool, too. Not my Mum. The Doctor's Martha. My Mum is cool too, though.

Dad had surgery for his knee yesterday. He got a script for Vicodin. Lucky hound. But he's not taking it. Dumb bunny. He's all "look at me, I can walk without a limp!" and not taking advantage of the fun of being an invalid for a few days. Man, if I could be an invalid for a bit...the mind boggles. When I talked to him today he was in the check-out at the grocery. He totally misses the point of convalescence.

The person that volunteered to beta my long-ish story hasn't been online in a couple days. I've got the second chapter written. I need feedback. Rate me! Judge me! Damn people with their lives and stuff. I might have to try to beta my own story if she doesn't pop up sometime tonight. (That's not really possible. I'd be ultra-alpha'ing it or something) I've done it before. But this is something that needs insight. Because I don't trust myself with it. And it's in a universe. That needs to be accessible to people that don't know that. But somehow also within the realm of the 'verse. Why do I keep doing thinking this is fun?

I want to go see the new Will Ferrell movie. Maybe I'll do that on Easter. Last Easter Mik gave me a Mars Bar and chocolate jelly beans (2 of my favorite things) and I introduced her to greens. I miss that little Odd Couple moment. We would've killed each other eventually, but we managed to live very comfortably with each other for awhile. I was amused (touched? nah that's too emo for me.) when Jason told me she'd been very excited that I was coming to visit. Because she'd never tell me that. Like I'd never tell her I liked having her around. It's just the way things are. We're touchy feely like that. We stopped at a chocolate shop when I was in town.
"They have your favorite, Mars Bars," she said.
"Gah! I love those! I don't need those!"
"I'm not forcing you. But you should have some gellato."
"Well, of course I should."
"And the Mars Bar."
"Yes."
"Good."
"Right. Good."
Food is love. You know that, right?

Coupland is watching me whilst resting his head on a pillow. He is such a silly looking hound. It's impossible to not love him. I'm still thinking about that dog I saw at the pound last week. But, I think she's probably already gone. One way or the other. I shouldn't have ever looked. I can handle the idea of someone or something until there's some personality attached to that entity. Then, I crumble.

Listen to This The video's inconsequential. It's the lyrics I'm talking about.

The answer is no. But yes. Really, from day to day. Yes. But really? No. But yes. I don't know. I'm not engaged. That's all.

Coupland woke me up about a half hour ago making weird noises. He wanted to go outside, but out there he just ate a bunch of grass. That can't be good. It sounds like he's choking. But he isn't acting like it. Not something I want to hear. He just moaned. Like I'm bothering him. Maybe we can both go back to sleep now. Hope so.

If it don't kill me it's gonna make me tough

How is it that I can be exhausted all damn day long, even so much as taking a quick kip in my truck during lunch but now that I should be asleep I'm wide awake? You don't think the jelly beans I'm popping like they're whatever it is I've been taking for the ridiculous pain I've been in all day have anything to do with it, do you? I hit max dosage on the painkiller front at 10am, but that didn't stop me, I'm not into suffering. I'm into getting through the work day. I hope that doesn't disappoint anyone. Kinda goes against the whole monicker, I know. But really, 4 Alleve? Like that's going to do anything but tease me with the possibility of not feeling like shit. I upgraded to, I don't know what those things are, but I feel great! when I got home. They're legal. They're prescription. I just don't know what they're called. I do know I'm going to need more soon. Hmmph. That kinda sucks. Doctors kind of look down on people actively seeking drugs. But I only take them when I need them. Like today. When the medieval torture device that is my body was being particularly evil. Days and weeks go by when I don't feel as completely fucking horrible as I did today. My co-workers kept trying to send me home. But I refused. On the principle that I want to get paid. Has nothing at all to do with a love for the job. I hate the job. But oh, sweet, sweet money. I'd never betray you.

Meanwhile on the House front: I wrote a big long rant and then posted it at my other journal. So if you know where that is you're welcome to read it. Or maybe I'll copy and paste it here sometime. But I'm lazy, so take that into account. Part 1 of my I fear very long story has been posted to wider acclaim than anything I've ever written and that scares me a little. It's the kind of story that needs to stay good or it will become very terrible very fast. Next week I think Wilson is going to spend 'quality' time with a whore. I hope it's graphic. If I can't have House/Wilson I'll take Wilson/Anybody. Wilson/Cuddy would be way hot. I'm good with that. House/Wilson/Cuddy would be enough to make me go into cardiac arrest.

On the my house front, the dog is having a nervous breakdown because of the storm and I really wish I was tired. But even if I was Cope wouldn't let me sleep. So what difference does it make? I read in EW that House is going to be getting a dog. If it makes him all lovey-softy-dovey I swear I'm going to be so pissed. I've had two dogs and neither of them have softened me a bit. Oh, what? Just because I carry Coupland around like a little cuddly baby doesn't mean I've gone soft. It's just that he's just the size of a baby without all that pesky 'getting bigger and learning to speak' nonsense. He'd be ideal if he wasn't whining in my ear right now. And Baxter was always 100% pure dog. Even when he was hiding in the bathtub during storms....sorry, I've got to stop. I'm going to go cry now...Doesn't make me soft. You'd have to be made of stone not to cry at something like that. I bet you throw stuff at the end of "Pride of the Yankees" too, don't you? Fuck off.

Little darlin, it's been a long cold lonely winter

Bleh. I feel terribly ick. SRSLY. My whole body aches. I have a splitting headache. Passing cars make me dizzy. I'm well on my way to maxing out on the pain killers for the day. Not that that would stop me if I remain feeling shitty. I'm not going to suffer for my art. I have no art for which to suffer. Guhn.

Today's April Fool's Day. As you may well know. I called my parents and had them going for a few minutes that I'd spent all my savings yesterday on a used Vespa I found on Craigslist. Mum was in a state of shock. Asking if I'd ridden it yet or bought a helmet and did I know what the insurance would cost. Dad was yelling things that can't be said on television. It was hi-LAR-ious. When I told them that it was a funny joke Dad tried to get Mum to hang up on me since that sort of thing is just not nice to do to people. I think I'll post I've heard a rumor over on the least happening and oft-times most humorless corner of the Interwebs that there's going to be a summer tour and that Donnie's decided he doesn't want to play with Dylan anymore. I love any holiday observance that encourages me to stay on the couch.

Ever watch Top Design or Project Runway or those shows? They're weirdly addictive. Everyone is so damn evil. And gay. The gay is beyond previously charted levels of gay. I've seen straighter drag shows.

I have a story I should be working on. But if I try to write now I'd probably just have everyone commit seppuku and put everyone out of our misery.

Returns to watching Top Design and participating in lame April Fools Jokes.