I feel so much better about myself today. I came to the realization that my situation's not nearly so bad as I believed. After all, haven't a managed to get the rage under control? Few others have noticed, but I have. I have the ability to change, to improve, to remake myself into a better version of myself.
Not everyone can do that. I know a man who's willing to bargain his dreams away to feel young again, however briefly. I know a man who's as good as dead but follows his desires and whims further into decay. I know a man who's becoming incapable of escaping the rigid role he's set for himself. I know a man who pities me for the wrong reasons, when the person he should pity is himself.
As for today....I had to type up those tabs today. You see, I'd never typed them in the first place, as I had actual work to do, unlike Claire, who took Monday off. It took me the grand total of an hour and a half--Claire probably had more than enough time to do it yesterday.
I got home, and my father had returned from Europe. That is one heck of an odd man. He bought me Beanie Babies, of all things. Rather a lot. He also bought me a blue music box from Sorrento, because I'd asked. He made the mistake of buying my mother a perfume that she'd previously said she liked, but had changed her mind about. Now she thinks it smells of stale cigarettes. Poor Papa....his face fell when she was less than enthusiastic about his selection. He's like a little boy, really. He always tries to please her, and he almost never gets it right. And her rejections are so cruel, so inconsiderate. If only he didn't love her so.
I'd made plans to get together with Cathy tonight, only to find a message on my answering machine telling me that they were waiting for me at the mall....what the fuck? I'm certain I made it crystal clear that I do not have a car on the weekdays. And there was no way to call her back. So, I simply told Dirk to come over, to make the best of a bad situation.
At about 7:20, Cathy calls again, and offered to pick us both up. So, Dirk and I went to Chili's with Cathy, Nicole, and Cathy's little (god, taller than me, now) brother. On the way, we were behind Krisco's car. That got my adrenaline flowing. I don't know what it is about the sight of that ugly purple Accent with the tacky bumper stickers on it that gets me so riled, but I was half ready to hop from car roof to car roof, until I got to her car so I could open it up like a can of slugs and kill her.
We had a hilarious time, though. I caught Nicole and Cathy up on all the latest events, and made Nicole laugh so hard she almost choked a couple times. Cathy's just come back from Italy, and practically shimmering with enthusiasm.
God, I've missed them so much. I haven't seen either of them in months, much less had a decently long conversation. I wish we could have hung out longer. I wish we could hang out more often, but then, there's Nicole's friends to take into consideration. I really do not like a lot of them.
The trip home had an odd, dreamlike quality. Somehow, the new Beastie Boys song was playing for most of it, and I was sitting crammed in the back, with Dirk and Cathy's brother, watching Nicole's hair fly in the wind from the open window. I don't think much was said. We seemed to drive forever with that song playing, blaring, melting. Melting forever into a moment with a clarity that was almost tactile.
We got home, Dirk got his bike out, and we sat on the front porch for a while. We don't have very many moments like that anymore, where we just sit and talk softly. I felt closer to him than I have in a while.
Then, I went in, talked to my aunt and That Cunt for a bit, then got online.
I'm reading Ray Bradbury's Farenheit 451. I've permenently given up on Trashy Romance novels. They're so empty, with a thousand copies of the same dream, dressed in almost the same trappings. I just got bored with it, I guess.