Sierra, i love you; please tell me i'm not being an idiot...
Damn you mom and dad, for not showing me what to do.
Sierra, i'm sorry if i'm bad at this, but i don't know what a good relationship feels or looks like
i just want us both to be happy.
It's just i don' know anything.
We just have to be a team, huh?
Okay.
i can live with that.
Because that means no matter what,
My team is going to win.
- posted by Third @ 10:17 AM (0) comments

 
The day an engineer draws up plans for an automated worrying machine, my mother had better start, well, worrying.
The reason i say this is that faced with an adversary capable of worrying non-stop day and night, without need for frivolities such as sleep, nutrition, or periods of discomfort springing from a worry-free environment, my mother is sure to be obsolete in a record time outstripping even the telegraph or the steam-drill. Stripped of every care in the world, and placed in an environment where she cannot possibly worry about anything (This is, actually, a valid statement; i will cite the endless vacations we seem to attempt to carefree destinations such as Hawaii, Yosemite, Various Health Spas and the Oregon Coastline; all to the same result.) She immediately falls ill with an incurable malady that cannot be diagnosed and baffles even the most tenured medical professionals when pressed for a consensus any less antiquated than the decidedly draconian "Nerves." General Anxiety Disorder may come close to encompassing the neurosis that my mother has, by the sheer force of her own determination to be one of the martyrs she and her schoolmates at Catholic School traded on holy cards, acquired. Of course, i say this in the way one might say "The general term 'dysfunctional' might encompass most disorders found in the latest copy of the DSM. On top of it all, she will not, under any circumstances, see anyone even resembling a psychiatrist; a fact i manage to sidestep, rather cunningly, if i say so, by referring her to our friend Richard. Richard does, assuredly, hold a degree in psychiatric therapy, but he is infallibly trustworthy in the eyes of my mother than any headshrinking quack, by virtue of the fact that he is also an ordained minister. i cannot account for her utter distrust of the medical profession, except maybe in tenuous connection with my father; but plastic surgery seems only vaguely like medecine to me anyway. The regrettable thing about our understanding with Richard is that he cannot prescribe antidepressants or anti-anxiety medecines, and he will sooner carry Moses over Jordan on his back than convince my mother to speak to anyone who can, although i am frantically searching the psychiatric community for an archbishop or the like.

~End of Rant~
Courtesy.
- posted by Third @ 7:19 PM (0) comments

 
Music: Me First and the Gimme Gimme

So. Apparently i have somebody to beat up.
i really don't like to do that, mostly because when i do actually do it is when i catch myself enjoying it.
That bothers me. A lot.
But it seems some bastard at school has stepped way outside the bounds of courtesy, and the friend of mine is not in any position to do anything about it herself.
So. "Liam the ninja" to the rescue.
Why can't people just be nice? Or at least courteous?
i miss my Smurfie.
Apparently i was right; Cory and Frosty broke up today.
That means he's going to start bitching about Sierra again, but she assures me he doesn't have her number anymore.
So maybe that won't go badly.
i miss her a lot. i can see why screwing up with her tore him up so bad.
If i lost her, i'd be a neurotic little slimeball too.
Carolyn assures me that there is no problem, which, since Cody and Beth both have told me there is, means she's probably sitting on it so nobody has to feel uncomfortable except for her. i wish she wouldn't.
Oh well. People make choices. i don't get to choose good or bad ones for them, and it's not even fair for me to judge.
i need to remember that more often.
i'm meditating for peace, since my mom's praying up a storm... like she does... and it doesn't seem to be getting through.
That's the problem with crises, i figure: God's switchboard gets all fouled up.
So i'm meditating for peace.
It's not doing anything, of course, except probably lowering my blood pressure.
Ah well; maybe that's a sign.

i love you Smurfie!! Only 566 days!!
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO For Sierra, The rest of you get a passing thought in my meditations, and a drink coupon if you ask for it when you see me.

Courtesy.
- posted by Third @ 12:48 AM (0) comments

 
Music: Tampopo (off Whimsey 2.0)

Damn it. i just lost a post.
Hit "post and publish" and it just up and disappears into the aether.
will shit.
The gist of it was:
Apparently Carolyn has a problem with me, but she won't communicate.
Cody knows what it is, *Naturally*, but refuses to be the middleman.
i don't blame him.
Right now i just wish she'd bring it out; i need more personal drama like a jr high cheerleader needs a convict uncle for a babysitter.
And yes, that choice of words was deliberate.
Shit.
i also get this feeling like something's going to happen with Cory.
Well, deal as it happens, i guess.
i love you a lot, Smurfie. A whole lot a lot.
i'm sorry; i been bad about keeping up in the book.
i promise i'll write more tomorrow. Er. Today. Whatever. Monday.
i had nice dreams about chu lately, but i can't remember them now.
i'm gonna go try and find them now though.
Courtesy.
- posted by Third @ 2:29 AM (0) comments

 
Music: Silverchair; Anthem for the Year 2000

Well; my day consisted of waking up to my mom on the phone coming out of church:
"Be ready to leave in half an hour; we're going on an adventure!"
Shit.
That always means we're driving farther than it's worth for lunch.
Oh boy was i ever wrong.
It was dinner we were driving to.
We're passing Davis, and i finally say something:
"Are we going to be there anytime in the next hour?"
"Nope!"
At this point i realized what was happening.
They'd dragged me along so they could get that shitty little bolt from Ikea's.
Yep. They got these chairs there for entirely too much money on friday, and one of them was packaged without a bolt.
i was treated to dinner at a mediocre fish-house that pretended to be a class establishment because it had linen on the tables.
That is what i have to show for obliterating my day with hours of driving.
And she wonders why i get depressed.

But Smurfie called!!
i love you Smurfie!!!
Courtesy.
- posted by Third @ 7:17 PM (0) comments

 
So then.
i'm a bit clearer headed now...
i'm trying to get this set up so Smurfie can post too, but i need to send her mail to do that... arg.
i'm so happy i got to see her this week; it's always so incredible how different i feel afterwards
Like the day before i could just want to lie in bed all day and not even move, but she plans breakfast at eight and i'm ready to leave at 5:30...
It's like i run on her love the way an engine uses fuel... and when the tank gets low, it gets kinda ugly...
So i gotta make sure i tank up as often as i possibly can!!
Hopefully she'll be able to get in on this; this is sort of my other out besides NAP, and she'd be able to actually post here
i love you, Smurfie :D
Couresy.
- posted by Third @ 12:40 AM (0) comments