Just in time for September, I find fitting song lyrics for August. Fucking typical, that's what it is. I had a song in mind for September, yesterday, but I've lost it again.
There is much afoot these days.
First off, I bought a car. It's a 2000 Chevy Cavalier, champagne-colored. 14,332. I pick it up on September 4, the day after my birthday. It does not have a CD player because I've seen how those things scratch up Cds. Plus, it would have added to the expense of the car. I got approved for the financing yesterday. My mother's name appears nowhere on the title of the car. I am well pleased.
Dirk was slightly less-than-pleased, simply because it's going to be a financial burden when we move out. The way I see it is that since we won't really have the safety net of our parents anymore, it would be nice to have something I can count on to work. I can't count on the Cutlass. In fact, I am leery of depending on anything that was owned by anyone else before me. Anyway, I have no credit history, and I needed some pronto.
I'm sure my mother had other reasons to be so supportive of me getting the car. I'm sure that her thoughts were clicking out the equation: car = BIG financial burden = Agent Skatter lives at home until we die. Most parents want their kids to leave the house. Not my folks.
They honestly think I wouldn't move in with Dirk simply because it would upset them.
I think my mother could live with a little disappointment. After all, she's no angel herself.
This is my last week in this office, dealing with their defective computers. I could not get my browser to do anything last week because it was having a fit. But I love the people. I wish I could transfer to this office permanently. These people make me smile.
It's very rare to find government workers who are worth hanging out with.
They're throwing me a party today because I'm leaving. I'm not given the impression that this is regular modus operandi for Clerical Support people when they're transferred out of an office.
I'm a lousy punk, let me just say that now. We've got a show on the sixth, and I'm scared. Well, not really scared. It's more the nervousness you feel when you know you're going to be scared sometime in the future. Pre-emptive fear. I don't think we're ready. Joe's only been in the band for a few weeks, and we're still ironing out rhythms.
And I haven't even gotten to start (except for the most basic design work) the band's web site. And we haven't done the recording. This is mostly Joe's fault, because he was thisclose to having an emotional breakdown over the week-end. It was over Marie. Girls are fickle, and Joe's been pinning all his hopes on Marie. Unfortunately, he dumped her twice in the past before getting his head on straight, and Marie's hesitant to move to VA from NM to live with him. I can't blame her, but Joe misses her and he freaked out when he called her and she told him to call back. She was out-of-breath, and obviously in a rush. Dirk had a heyday with potential scenarios before Aaron made him stop. Joe was about to collapse.
It was a stressful week-end. I was in a bad mood already, because of all the stress involved in buying the car, and Aaron set me off in the middle of practice. He was making fun of Dirk again, which is something he does rather frequently. This time it was too much, and I got up in his face. I think I screamed that he was a loser who had no call to make fun of anything about Dirk, especially not his weight, considering what a pig he'd been up until a few months ago. I summed up my fit (I was prepared to explore the statistics against him getting laid by anyone but Sonia, what this said about Sonia, and how astonishing it was that he'd gotten laid enough to sire progeny.) by saying, "Don't make me go off on your ass!"
He didn't take that well. I never yelled at him much anyway, and since we've gotten tight, I haven't yelled at him at all. Certainly not in full bitch mode. He became very angry and walked out as soon as we'd finished the next song. Wouldn't speak to me for a while, either. I knew something was wrong because I was watching his face while we played and it was curiously wooden.
I apologized that night while Joe was having his breakdown, and he said it was okay. I think I've fucked up an entire year's worth of careful friendship-building. Honestly, though, he pisses me off sometimes. I'm a little mad at myself for losing control.
Our second anniversary was on Sunday. Dirk and I celebrated by taking a nap and running to Wal-Mart for school supplies. I bought myself a nifty notebook that had blue paper. We'd had practice earlier in the day, because Richard offered us up to four extra hours free so we were completely exhausted.
The card the people at the office gave me said, "Working with you is definitely the best thing about this place. You're kind of like a cool breeze in hell."
