from the vault

great grandpa's sweet ride.
great grandpa

aunt collette, uncle steve, mom, aunt paula, aunt lydia
grandpa, lydia, mom, grandma, aunt paula, aunt collette, uncle steve
grandma in her wedding dress
grandpa and grandma on their wedding day

great great grandpa with great grandpa

illest illness

I must have had too much fun this weekend because now I am sick. I feel like I shouldn't be too upset since I can't really remember the last time I was sick (perhaps not since before I graduated?) but perhaps that just makes me less used to it and therefore more inclined to complain.

ANYWAY.

I am at a point of mild lucidity right at this moment, which has not happened for most of the day. Mainly I've slept. Tate came by and cuddled for a second, and then left, which is good because I'll feel like a shit girlfriend if I infected him. Even though he was warned.

ANYWAY.

Naked Gods show Saturday night was fun x45498589459. The other bands were also very impressive. I'm really really really glad I went.

MATT AND GARY CAME INTO TOWN LAST NIGHT!!!! I cannot express the excitement accurately. Those are my two favorite boys on the planet. JESUS CHRIST. Pizza plus Red Haus plus Bar (where I didn't drink anything, because as the night wore on the sicker I got). Talked to Matt and I may have some future plans for after my lease ends (around May) which would involve a BIG MOVE. So, I am really hoping to hear from Mr. Lawyer (who was supposed to call today and didn't, big surprise) so I will have a good job which will allow me to save up some dolla dolla bills for bigger and better things.

work tomorrow, work wednesday, driving to greenville to see my mom and brother, back friday, work saturday.

i am a bad spy

ENOUGH!

OK. ok. OK. O-K.

ENOUGH! I call shenanigans on myself for just choosing to be lazy rather than be more active towards making myself the person whom I wish to be.

TODAY!: I had a second interview for the personal assistant job to that crazy lawyer. Which went rather swimmingly. As in, he said he would definitely get into contact with me Monday. I'm about 85% sure that I am going to get this job. I don't want to throw that other 15% out there because he may decide something stupid over the next few days like I'm too young or something lack that. I have chutzpah! Who needs age and experience when you have chutzpah?!

(Besides, I'm like 83247398 years old on the inside.)

So maybe I will no longer be destitute and bemoaning my existence as a minimum wage calendar slave. Hooray!

Today I have also put forth considerable efforts toward making my brother's Christmas present. He told me not to get him anything and to save my money. This is in complete cohesion with his character, as last year when I asked him what he wanted, he replied for Christmas "...not to happen." So I am making him a quilt, and I am starting now so if I fuck it up reeeaaalll bad I still have time to figure out what else I could do for him. He is difficult. But I love him.

RIGHT NOW!: I am at Espresso News where I am sitting across from Mister Mathis, who is finishing some sort of paper. He has old man 'I AM THINKING VERY HARD ABOUT THIS' face on and there is a really deep line on his forehead right between his two eyebrows. It leans to the left (or the right, depending upon your perspective). Sometimes he looks like The Grinch and I told him this, but it is highly complimentary, I assure you.

Cannon is here too behind me. FRIENDS!

MELODRAMA

Another vacant afternoon in which I find myself lurking for hours at Espresso News, fruitlessly sending out my resume with ever-dwindling hopes that I will receive some sort of interest in myself as a future valuable asset to some nameless, vapid company.

It seems like so many people have the Boonetown Blues lately. “Seems” because the majority of this information is derived not from actual conversations, but micro-electric-infobits from facebook, blogger, etc. Textually described are states of frustration, ennui, and jaded realizations that the lives we lead poorly nourish the potential which we wish so dearly to release.

Though when meeting people face-to-face, the customary lip service is always given. “fine, doing well, oh you know, ok.” Why? The suspicion that the other party doesn’t give a shit? The reluctance to share one’s anguish with another? The frustration and shame that we cannot solve every problem ourselves? The desire not to feel weak in front of another? The fear of being perceived as weak?

Blah. Let us all lie alone in beds built of our own reluctance.

(Tate says I think too much. That’s probably true. I’m happier when I’m working full time not because it reinforces any false notions of importance, but merely distracts me from my own insignificance.)

(MELODRAMA! DISCONTENT!)

my weekend so far

I'm feeling a little better than I have been.

and some more

last night.

I dreamed I was driving down King street in the middle of the night and I wanted to take a short cut I thought I knew so I took a right turn and ended up driving around this neighborhood and I had no idea where I was and it was pitch black and I couldn't see the road so I felt like I drove up a hill and into someone's driveway and there were these two gangsta looking white teenage boys sitting on a big rock and they were lit up in my headlights and I asked them if they could tell me how to get back to King street and they came up and pulled me out of my car and one of them hit me in the face and the other stomped on the instep of my right foot

and then

I was at a big hospital trying to leave but they wouldn't let me until they had a chance to examine me because they said I had been raped. all I wanted to do was go home.

in the mire

more terrifying dreams last night. not 'terrifying' as invoking a sense of pure fright, like when your heart starts pounding and you wake up covered in sweat, but more like the slow sort of terror, the sense that something is horribly, horribly wrong, yet in your dream this is life.

We were living in a small, shitty, white house in a really poor semi-rural area. Sort of like some of the places I pass by in Kinston when I drive to mom's house from Jacksonville. There was a small, freshly turned field out back (1/4 of an acre?), and there was white powered sprinkled all over it. "dream mom" (who was black, interestingly enough, and I think at this part of the dream I was a little black girl, about 5 or 6) told me to go back and stamp it into the ground, because the neighbors would know it was lye and that Don was trying to cover up the bodies of the kids he'd killed.

earlier in the dream, at a different part of it completely disconnected from the aforementioned, there was some sort of camping trip or outdoor expedition or something, and an unrequited love was there. he looked older than he should. I was standing and he was kneeling, and I held his head against my chest and I was crying a little, and he was telling me he wanted to be with me, and I remember thinking I wanted it to but what about a family? what about kids? he would be so old when they were born. but I still wanted him so badly.

ugh.

anyway.

Got an email from Hawksnest. As soon as it gets cold enough they're going to start making snow. Which, as much as I don't want it to get cold, I really really want to start a better job. Calendars suck.

I think most of my frustration lately has stemmed from not working full time. I hate feeling as if I am not useful, intelligent, or a hard worker.

The BF has put up with my moods lately in a most honorable manner. It's nice to date someone who sees you as more of a person than an object.

liar

all right. maybe I was wrong. but it's not like anyone actually reads this besides me anyway so who the fuck cares what I say, right?

This morning at Sunrise Grill I did not receive the grits which, according to the menu, I should have received. The waitress told me I was not supposed to receive the grits. However, according to the serial comma and wording which they used on the menu ("hashbrowns or homefries, grits, toast or biscuit") it was indicated that I should have received said grits. I did not prevail.

And then I'm mad at myself for being so upset over something as trivial as the aforementioned situation, but I think this is because it adds to the overall feeling I've had of life not making sense or lining up in the way in which it should. It was wrong. My life is filled with things that are wrong.

I am not happy and each day I spend in this town I feel more and more of something inside of me die. But I'm afraid that by leaving, I will discover the only thing which has really changed is the landscape.

Pretty much I'm impotent at living my own life and feel lonelier than I have in a very long time.

murp

ok, ok, I'm done feeling so fucking emo. at least for a little bit I guess.

I talked to Tate for a while about a lot of different things last night and ended up feeling a lot less like a complete waste of a human being.

Party tonight at his place. Ugh, lots of people I don't know = social anxiety! There'll be a few people I know there though. And Amanda might come. Which would be good.

Today I have spent upwards of 5 hours embroidering a zombie sock doll. True story!

nrg

so, life's a game, and everyone else got the rules to monopoly, while I got the ones to parcheesi, and therefore nothing I do seems to (a) be right and (b) make sense.

I don't understand why I consistently make things difficult for myself.

Please sweet jesus someone call me about a full time job. I don't want to move.

What I'd like to do is crawl into the bottom of the other bottle of pinot I have, but since I have a sleepover guest it wouldn't be very seemly.

(Plus it would probably freak the shit out of him.)

(People are fine as long as no one gets involved with others' real problems.)

.

I'm having a hard time right now.

.

But I'm sure I'll get over it. Right?

I keep fucking sneezing

In another sluuuump. I started my shitty MINIMUM WAGE mall job yesterday. Y'all... really... I haven't worked for minimum wage since high school. And it's only part time. I took it under the theory that 'Oh, well, you know, it's just for now, so I don't go completely broke before december rent is due.' But still. Fuck. And I hate how disorganized everything in the store is, they don't know where shit is, there are piles of things everywhere, and the store manager is rude to the customers. She's a BITCH, how the FUCK do you get to be a store manager if you're a complete fucking BITCH?

I just don't understand anything.

So, I'm waiting to hear back from HN, this personal assistant position, sugar, etc.

The PA interview was the weirdest interview experience I've ever had. But Jesus Christ I don't think I've EVER wanted a job as badly as I do this one. (I actually got to the point with the guy that I told him 'If I work another job answering phones for sad, boring people, I will shoot myself in the face.' But he seemed to appreciate that sentiment, and told me "[I] didn't want to be one of those people!" and then I was all like "I KNOW RIGHT?!?!" I'm still trying to decide if that was a bit much. Whatever.)

DEEP BREATHS, Y'ALL.

Emma sent me some books and for some reason they're all REALLY FUCKING SAD. So I got real emo and mopey and shitty feeling last night. But then Tate came over. He always says really nice things to me to make me feel better. The good part is he actually means them. Fancy that.

ANYWAY, calendar slave from 12-4. Then I'm off until Monday, which, even though I need the money, is pretty fucking fantastic since, with the exception of the NOLA excursion, I haven't had a weekend day off since April, much less the whole thing.

Tomorrow: camping out in Espresso News, applying to EVERY FUCKING FULL TIME JOB I'M THE LEAST BIT QUALIFIED FOR.

Now: shower, work. oh and my landlord would probably appreciate it if I paid him his money for rent.

titles are overrated

I want to pull the whole world close to my bosom and cradle it until everyone feels better. I know people may not think I mean it. But I do.

Pretty much I've decided that everyone except those who I really really care about can go fuck themselves.

Two interviews today.

I felt like writing but now I don't.