Diary 170

08-04-98


Dirk spent his time online today trying to get writers for the ‘zine. I'm of the opinion that writers should not be too hard to find if we'd only put out a decent issue. Then we could do the whole mailing-list thing, irritate everyone, and maybe get someone to write.

I'm not holding my breath, though. Most people who read stuff on the Internet aren't motivated enough to actually write stuff. A great deal of these people aren't even motivated enough to do more than stare open-mouthed at the computer screen.

I thought of an even better idea for an article to write. The World Of Cheese. Each month, I could try a different kind of cheese (Feta, Edam, Gouda, Brie, etc.), and compare it to the God Of Cheese, Velveeta. You know it's the most perfect cheese on the planet.....it's soft, it melts really well, it's great in Macaroni, and I have doubts that it's ever even gotten a close look at a cow, much less being a part of the dairy product family. Processed Cheese Food. It's the wave of the future. One day the only "cheese" available will be Velveeta and Cheeze Whiz (that stuff in jars that you microwave for chips and stuff).

Dirk mowed my lawn for me today (of course. Is there another reason to have boyfriends?). He also taught me the bass line for a ska song that he wrote--ha! Who says I cannot play ska bass? Amazingly enough, the bass line can also double as a bass run meant to increase dexterity and speed in fingering.

I think I've found an angle to take on my abortion article. You know, both sides seem kind of....fanatic. I think I'll do a comparison of the two sides' facts.

I just got an e-mail from Roachboy. Apparently, he's extending his dislike of Dirk to me. I don't think this sort of malice is necessary. After all, haven't I completed all of my obligations to him? Haven't I given back everything of his that I posessed? Perhaps this is his way of saying he no longer feels obligated to pay me back.

Well, that's not my concern. Perhaps, instead of hoping that Roachboy will repay me, I should start looking for the package of "millenium" M&M's, so I can win that million dollars.

Dirk's of the opinion that people who randomly capitalize when they write are "punk". No, they're not. They're stupid. And, most probably, incapable of figuring out how to correctly capitalize words.

Thanks to the sunburn I got at the Warped Show, my face is peeling. Badly. Lotion keeps it from peeling, but lotion feels gross on my skin and doesn't stop the peeling areas from looking patchy.

The highlight of my day today was watching my supervisor's granddaughter heckle Alex. It was near quitting time for Alex, and he had a lot of shit to complete (thanks to his laziness earlier in the day). He asked Brittianny to please leave him alone, because he had work to finish. In that horridly taunting voice that only little girls of elementary school age can manage, she asked him, "Are you gonna cry?"
Alex: "No."
Brittiany: "You are, I can tell you are. You're just a big crybaby."
Alex: "I am not. Please go away, Brittiany."
Brittiany: "Crybaby"
Personally, I agreed with Brittiany. Alex is a big crybaby.

Oooh....here's something lovely. I got one of those "letters" from the public library today, warning me that if I do not return my overdue books within 30 Days, they will be forced to take legal action. And having overdue books is a misdemeanor in VA, don't you know. Geez....you'd think they'd have something better to do with their time, like get more books. I am so sure I give a shit about them and their little problems. Maybe, if they want the books back, they should bribe me. I'll probably give them the books, though. Overdue books would be a stupid reason to get a police record.

You know, this time last year, I was waiting to see if Dirk would get rid of Krisco, as he'd promised. I'd issued my ultimatum: either he dumped her in two months, or I left. C-- had offered me a plane ticket to Indiana, if I needed sanctuary, and I was so hopped-up on allergy medication that I honestly don't remember feeling anything other than numb and exhausted.

Roachboy says I should just give up on this whole situation and leave. I think that if I lived through last year, with all that horror, guilt, and uncertainty, I can stick this out. Compared to last year, this is just irritating. I can handle this. All I have to do is get my shit in gear, and everything'll be alright. I'm not waiting for anyone else to make my life better for me. I'm going to do it on my own, and right here, where I live. With the resources already in place.

If you don't think I can manage it, fuck off.


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