Well, my sister died on 9/13, which hasn't helped anything one whit. Every time a family member dies it has to be a frickin' adventure, and that's annoying and depressing.
...it helps to remind myself that I got up around 2:30 AM after getting perhaps 4 hours of sleep, and have been awake since then. That's why I'm so f-ing tired; I'm sick, on antibiotics, and dealing with the emotional aftermath of my sister's death. Isn't this kind of lassitude to be expected? (Is that a word? "Lassitude"? I'm pretty sure it is. I'm too lazy to look it up.)
Therapy is tomorrow afternoon; choir practice is held on Thursday evenings and I've just about made up my mind to go see what it's all about.
I've spent the last several days rattling back and forth between being really tired and feeling hypoglycemic. Last night it was both at once, which was real f-in' awesome, let me tell you. I had to skip out in the middle of the study session to go get a torta from Super Burrito! lest I collapse and end up needing an ambulance. Shit. I don't think I was gone longer than 15 minutes or so, since the church is approximately kitty-corner with the bar where the Super Burrito! branch is. I inhaled the torta on the walk back to the church. I think it was really tasty but can't be sure since I was too hungry to chew my food past the bare minimum necessary to get it to go down my esophagus without sticking.
Tonight's dinner will be--eventually--pork chops, mashed potatos, and asparagus. It's not going to be now, because once this post is done I'm going to hit the hay for a few hours.
Pretty sure I already did the entire year's worth of whining (as required by the LJ terms of service) in April-May, when my life was coming apart because I was having a nervous breakdown. Still, I can't help it: when I need to P&M, I need to.
Common maxim: every circle of friends has a dickhead in it, and if you think your group doesn't have one it means you're it. I've been thinking about that and my own past and coming to conclusions I don't like.
Problem is, I'm totally blind to WTF I did that was asinine. I can accept the idea that I was the dickhead; I can't figure out what and why.
...but then I think about the people I was friends with, and realize that the model asserted by the common maxim is too simplistic. Everyone was a dickhead. ...one way or another. One of the major problems with that group was that it consisted of the rejects of the high school social machine, and once high school was over there was no longer any reason for the group to exist. We banded together in self-defense because none of the popular kids liked us, and we didn't like them either...but after that horseshit had been dispensed with the common denominator was gone, and we drifted apart.
And this is BS I've been over and over and over again about a billion times since 1992, and I'm no closer to figuring it out than I was then. If I listen to any of the other people involved, well, it's all Ed's fault...but they're not unbiased observers, any more than I am.
More recently (ten years after the 1992 bullshit) I noticed a certian person taking steps to ensure he could assure himself that he wasn't the bad guy. Rather than just saying, "Okay, we don't want you here any more"--which would have made this particular person the bad guy--instead he threw up roadblocks. "You don't act like you're interested in playing. Why are you so tired? You should be 100% 'on' when the game starts Saturday afternoon! You're dragging down everyone else. You can't stay here on Friday night; only Saturday night. This is the limit of what I'm willing to do." ...talk a good game about "friendship" and such but where the rubber meets the road, set up conditions where I can't possibly do everything to specification, making me the bad guy. I'm the jerk because I'm falling asleep at the gaming table, because I drove 4.5 hours the night before, was kept up until 3 AM, and was then awakened at 7 AM. Or, alternately, got up at 7 AM and drove 4.5 hours to get there by 1 PM so he wouldn't be inconvenienced by my late arrival. Yeah.
So it's hard for me to believe in real friendship any more. By 2000 I was already pretty gun-shy just because of all the BS that I'd been through. How do you fix that? As willing as I was (and am) to accept whatever measure of responsibility is mine, how the hell am I supposed to know what I do wrong if no one tells me?
This is why I've come to the conclusion that it's not all me. I've got a sharp tongue and a dull wit; worse, I've got absolutely deadpan delivery that makes people think I'm serious when I'm not. But as much bullshit as I guess I deliver, I also take a similar amount in without complaint. (Or not much, anyway.)
When I look back at the last 20 years I can identify some things which I should have handled differently; but they are not the bulk of my existence. Some of the people involved hold grudges over these things to this day.
It's like, "Dude, if I held grudges like you do, I would have stopped being your friend when we were still in high school." The one guy who was always teasing me, yet who got extremely butthurt when I teased him back--perfect f-ing example. When he ribbed me it was all in fun; but when I ribbed him it was because I could only make myself feel good by tearing down others, you see. Yeah. I was not invited to get-togethers, but I was supposed to invite him to one I was attending. Like that.
So now I am always suspicious of the perfectly innocuous, and I hate it.
* * *
Anyway, a few wisecracks about things I saw during my afternoon surf, and then I'm gonna go to bed for a while.
Greece now hates Germany because Germany doesn't want to bail them out any longer.
* * *
I think that's--is that Alec Baldwin? Sure looks like him. Gee, who wouldn't want to employ that...person...as a cosmetologist? I mean, h...she...? Uh, she has such style!
* * *
"For crying out loud, it's just a TV show!" OMG a camera shadow on the set of DS9--better not take any chances; sack the entire production crew!
It's just a little shadow--couldn't see it!
Oh, you're good, fine, kind people for saying that. But I can see it! To me, it's like a mountain! A vast bowl of pus!
This is why Kio, his uncle, and their unwilling impromptu allies in Beautiful Contact waited until Star Trek was on to rescure Eris: all the security guys on the base are "Trekkies".
(Asobi ni Iku Yo!, for those of you who are wondering WTF I'm referring to.)
* * *
I really am too sarcastic sometimes.