Cymbalta. Our time was short, a mere 24+ hours, but clearly we are not meant to be together. You make me sick and wirey, and after more research, your benefits do not outweigh your risks and side effects. And considering I went to the doctor because I am lethargic and you make me twice as much so, I’m not sure you’re really for anyone. I must’ve had my beer-googles on when the doctor was discussing you with me.
And after the same amout of time with Ambien, I am convinced I found my soulmate. And you are kicking in rignt now and I am going to bed before I hallucinate any more.
Up early tomorrow for an ultrasound. He better be hot and single and interested.
Got flirted with by some cute hispanic boy named Jose at the gym. AND he had already seen me shirtless. We had already seen eachother a few times, but I as I was leaving, I passed by him and smiled and he turned around towards me and started with the smalltalk to snag me. It worked.
If this keeps up, my self-esteem is going to be OUT. OF. CONTROL.
I really hope I bump into him again.
The most awesome thing just happened. I was driving my car beside the bookstore and I passed this cute guy walking on the sidewalk. Noticed him, moved on with my life. Then as I was walking into said store, I looked to my left and saw him standing beside his car, looking at me. I saw that he was holding something, looked down, looked back up at him and paused. It was a handmade sign that read “FREE HUGS.” I threw my arms open like a crazy person and got one.
It was exactly what I needed from a random stranger to counter the effects of the guy who recently stalked and harassed me and wanted to hurt me.
My faith in humanity has been restored.
Thank you, Universe.
New favorite four word phrase: “temporary injection site reaction.” It sounds like right-wing jingoism to me. I call it “OMG, WTF DID YOU DO TO ME!!1!”
My mom called me Saturday and asked me if I would drive her to pick up her new teevee. Naturally I said okay, nevermind that I was playing hookie from work for, like, the 7th consecutive Saturday. While she was signing paperwork, I perused computers. Fifteen minutes later, I had been convinced by a 12-months-no-interest special to get a couple of special treats for myself, too.
I had an attack of buyer’s remorse, but that is natural and in true fashion as I’m highly manic and was coming down from the excitement anyway. This is normal.
Now, it’s all good. I know some of you are going to berate a little because it’s not a Mac, and others because it’s an HP, but my first computer was an HP and it was ridiculous how long it lasted. I think it still works, actually. This computer is crazy powerful, and the monitor even moreso, respectably. It’s so bright I had to turn the brightness level down to 10%, and the contrast is low, too.
Now if only I can keep from splurging on a Blu-Ray player.
Spotted today: Tattoo of two words in the shape of a cross on a guy’s leg: vertically - “WHITE,” horizontally - “PRIDE.” Bumper sticker on the back of a giant Ford SUV: “NOBAMA / Say no to socialism in 2008.” Fun times.
The weirdest, dumbest thing happened to me last Monday. I’ve been reluctant to write about it because it’s so dumb.
I left the gym and drove across the street to a sporting goods store to browse kayaks (why? I can’t fit one in my car, definitely not on it). As I walked down the main aisle, I passed a mid-30’s white man with his two young boys sitting at a patio display. I couldn’t have picked him out of a lineup - the only detail that caught my eye was his jaw packed with tobacco. “Gross.” The man looked at his wife who was standing nearby and commented that I had a tattoo on my leg. He told her, “you should get one that says ‘666′.”
I paused, looked back for a second, and decided to keep moving. “What a random, stupid, pointless, ignorant thing to say.” But if I got upset at every redneck with a mouthful of Copenhagen, I would have died from heart failure a long time ago. I decided to make an effort to avoid the whole family.
I perused for a few minutes checking for some things, passing them in the distance a few times, until I decided to go pee and then leave. As I was leaving the restroom, I walked down a side aisle and serendipitously ended up at the main at the same time as the Redneck on the parallel aisle. “Thank God I’m leaving.” I passed him and went on my way. But I didn’t get more than a few feet away before I heard his wife say to him, “we’re done here, where are we going now?” And he loudly proclaimed at the top of his voice, “we’re gonna follow this guy since he’s been following US!”
That’d be me. And I was not.
He walked towards me and stayed no more than 12 inches behind me. I never looked back but I could hear his footsteps. His kids followed and I heard “c’mon boys, I want you to see this.” Unfortunately this continued all around the store, and the place is big. As we approached the busy registers, he stopped, but repeatedly screamed at me to wait outside for him. “Two minutes, buddy! Gimme two minutes and I’ll come out there and we’ll take care of this!” Again, I didn’t look back.
I felt safer once I got outside, but I’m not much of a fighter. Or if I am, I wouldn’t know since I’ve never been in one. I’ve never fought back. I got in my car and was backing out of my parking spot when I saw him in my rear view mirror walking towards me with his young two boys at his side. He was screaming all kinds of obscene things, but the only word I was sure I heard was “faggot.” Er, “FAGGOT!!1!!1!”
So I drove off. On the way home, a truck stayed behind me for more than a few turns and I was afraid it was him following me. I was afraid, but it was much later that night when I realized how scared I actually was. It was really dark and I was getting something out of my car and a stray puppy had wandered up behind me and barked. It wanted to play. I really think I almost had a heart attack. You know that feeling when something scares you and it’s like you can feel a fracture in every nerve cell of your body? Your aura shatters into a million pieces? That, only worse.
I’m still upset that this happened. Upset that he’s a redneck, that he’s teaching this to his boys, that he’s probably going to take this out on his wife, that she lacks the intelligence and self-esteem to stand up to him. But as dumb as it sounds, I’m more upset that I didn’t turn around. [Sob story] As a child I was beaten up, abused, had rocks thrown at me, things like that on a daily basis. Mostly, I let go of all that. I told myself a few years ago that it’s ridiculous to hold grudges against people for things they did when they were children.
Or in my case, things they didn’t do.
But the more I see adults act like children, the more I start to believe I was wrong.
Last weekend I went to Houston for a (very successful) surprise birthday party for a friend. Much fun was had as we chatted, ate, drank (a lot), and watched a few things on their big projector in the backyard. Strangely, bras ended up hanging from flagpoles, but that’s another story. First, of course, was a bootleg copy of Dr. Horrible’s Sing-a-long Blog, which most of us had seen already and could quote verbatim. Next up was National Treasure 2, which is by far one of the worst movies I’ve ever seen in my entire life. Normally I blame Nicolas Cage for his bad movies, but there was no saving this one. After that, the Amazing Screw-On Head, which was surprisingly awesome and finally an encore of Dr. Horrible.
I hate long drives, but I’ll say the scenery between Dallas and Houston is far more picturesque than the crapscape between Dallas and Austin. But Austin wins the Best City in Texas award by a landslide. I had never been to Houston, and don’t care to go back. Sure the downtown area is “pretty,” and the buildings are tall, but the place just never fucking ends. I’ve never seen so much concrete. And then I drove by that god damned Joel Osteen largest-church-in-the-world and that sealed my disgust.
My actual vacation was cancelled for a handful of reasons, but I’m still spending the entire week off work. I decided to spend it looking for another job, which is turning out to be a major bust. It’s not like my standards aren’t low enough already: must be mostly indoors, pay at least what I made last year and not make me want to brutally slaughter others and then myself. Sadly, the last part is negotiable since I’m arguably well-versed in coping (I’m alive and they’re alive, right?). I don’t think I can stand to create another profile with an agency or a pre-screener. I’m all profiled out…srsly. I have to peel my eyes open to blink again. I’m only typing this because I’m taking a break.
In the meantime, I’ve been bored. I’ve cleaned up three years of financial paperwork, sent off for rebates I’m owed, stayed up late and slept late, organized my illegal downloaded tv serieses and seen a couple of movies. The first was The Dark Knight, of course, since I couldn’t be last. I thought the movie itself was mostly ho-hum, except for Heath, who was concentrated brilliance. The other film I saw this morning was The X Files. I was a bedside fan of the show, but this movie’s plot was just phenominally lackluster. That’s all they had? It would’ve made for a decent two-part episode, but as a movie I expected a lot more. More devoted fans will probably be sated. I just don’t care enough, it’s not like it was Buffy or anything.
Speaking of which, I think I’m a couple of months behind on comics. Walked into Border’s last month and the comic section had mysteriously teleported somewhere… didn’t bother asking because I have social anxiety disorder, but I did search for it to no avail.
BTW - I’m officially over 20 pounds on the weight loss. Go me. Kind of hit a plateau. My energy level for the last three weeks has been nil, and my depression high. I’m thinking it might be another thyroid thing, so possibly another visit with the doc is in order. I can see the mountain top but I have not been there.
I love how these photos randomly ended up side by side. When I took that photo, I was not making my Gandhi face.
I don’t really have birthday expectations other than hearing feliz cumpleanos from the regulars. And that’s fine. But, at work, I expected a cake because I’m vain and to have “HAPPY BIRTHDAY SAM” printed on the marquis like everyone else gets, and naturally I was disappointed by the place that never fails to disappoint. I don’t mean that I was literally disappointed; if anything, my expectations were met with unfounded accuracy. But what I didn’t expect was for a motherfucking Golden Girl to die on my birthday. Great, now for the rest of my life, I’m going to be known as that guy whose birthday Estelle Getty died on. I’ll never live this down.
Thank Maude it wasn’t Bea Arthur, that’s all I have to say.
Overheard in the spa at the gym today from a hot mid-40’s guy I’ve noticed more than once:
his chubby friend (approaches and enters the spa): “Hey, have you lost weight?!”
Hot Guy: “Yeah, about 45 pounds.”
his chubby friend: “What are you doing for that?”
Hot Guy: “Hemorrhoid surgery took care of 20 of them…”
his chubby friend: “Maybe that’s what I need!”
Those are some big hemorrhoids! I’m guessing he’s strictly a top these days.
Also got a text message from my best friend that brought an epic smile to my face: “berfday! u haz it!” And thanks to the mysterious snarkster who purchased that album for me on iTunes. He knows who he is.
So there’s not much more to say about the Jay Brannan incident. You know, where he touched me and hopefully left skin cells and/or dna on my body. It’s actually kind of hazy due to either alcohol or adrenaline, but we spoke and he put his arm around me and a photo was taken and all that. He was as nice as could be. The show was awesome and he is oustanding live.
He’s joking about there being very few people at the show - every seat was taken and plenty were standing. And re: that guy in the wheelchair, Brian, I kept seeing him around and thinking to myself, “omg, it looks like there’s a wad of Copenhagen in his face.” GROSS!!1! Actually, before I noticed that, I thought to myself, “wow, talk about a powerbottom with stamina.” I’m going to hell.
Bummed about having to cancel my vacation due to an impending hurricane. But at least I’m still taking all of next week off from work.
I just met Jay Brannan and now I can die happy. I felt the warmth of his body pressed against mine. That is all. I may have something more to say when I’m much more sober and don’t have to be at work in 6 hours. Make your own sense, I have none.
I’m hetero for Nicole Scherzinger. And don’t bother trying to get that song out of your head. It’s like mono… after a couple of weeks you’ll be fine.
