Hungry...

So, when all the scary drama was going on with Robb and I, I lost my appetite. I couldn't eat and I had trouble sleeping. There was a week where I barely did either. And...I lost some weight. Maybe ten pounds.

Now that things are better, though? Holy crap...I'm hungry every three hours. This has never happened to me before. I've always been the "on big meal is good enough" kind. Last night after dinner we watched The Muppet Show on dvd, and by the end of the episode (during which we ate fruit cocktail), I was hungry. WTF? I looked at Robb and was like, "What is wrong with me? I'm hungry all the time." I feel like I have a hole in my stomach or something, and nothing can fill it up. It's a little bit scary.

Needless to say, I woke up hungry this morning. I think it's time to remedy that.

Out

What To Wear...

I...had a nightmare last night.

I figured that if I were going to have a nightmare, it'd be because of all the ghost stories I was watching on the biography channel at my mom's house yesterday.  Guess not.

Ghosts?  No.  Demons?  Not even close.  Think scarier...

I had to go to work, and I couldn't find anything to wear!

No, seriously.  I don't know if you know this about me, but my work clothes run on a schedule that would make the most seasoned SS member proud.  Monday is blue shirt and black pants with a black tie.  Tuesday is my day off.  Wednesday is brown pants and white shirt with brown and blue tie.  Thursday is red shirt with black tie and gray pants.  Friday is black shirt with purple tie and gray pants.  The weekends are fairly flexible.  Saturday is generally white shirt with green tie and gray pants or black shirt with green tie and gray pants.  Sunday is Wednesday's outfit, unless there's something else I want to wear.

Doesn't that get boring?  No.  It's work.  I dress for me when I'm not at work.  And this way, I don't have to worry about what I'm going to wear, what's clean, etc.  When I get a new article of clothing, I re-evaluate.  But, for the most part, that's a pretty strict schedule.  Don't even get me started on the socks...I've got socks for every outfit, too...

Today?  I'm wearing Saturday's outfit, since I was off Saturday.  Plus the green socks.  They make me happy.

Out

 

Near-Misses...

I thought I was going to lose the boy this week.  

It's a story I don't really want to go into specifics about...at least not here.  But things are better.  We just had to air out a lot of dirty laundry that had been building up in the corners of our closets for almost five years.  Turns out we're both idiots, and we're made for each other.  Thank God for forgiveness...and love...and a great sense of humor.

That was the scariest week of my life.  I'm glad things are better.

Out

Sold...

Poetry apparently isn't the way to get comments around here. Fair enough. I was just venting, anyway. I didn't need anyone's approval.

I opened an envelope this morning and found out that we've been sold. Our property management company is no longer ours. Now we are in the hands of strange people with strange policies. I loved who we were with...I couldn't believe there was a rental company in a college town that was so damn friendly and accommodating. But...now we're in the hands of someone else.

I just had a terrifying thought...

What if they make us get rid of the cat? I'd burn down their fucking offices.

Sorry...maybe that was a bit dramatic, but...really...with all that's going on in my life right now, if anyone has the right to be dramatic, it's me.

*drops onto fainting couch with one hand to forehead*

Out

It's a Start...

Mouse Trap

Nobody builds a bulwark with a hinge
a trap door.
I can't help it--my architect is mad.
Head--steel trap.
Body--admirably constructed.
Even hands and feet, face hair nails are
alright.
But my heart? Oh, my heart...
Humane? Yes.
You can get in to find the nicest cheese
a prize, you think.
Getting out, though...

I've experienced too much death
for it to still be winter...

-----

Out

A Letter to Entity Unlikely to Respond...

Dear Redken,

They can discontinue my favorite flavor of yogurt. They can cancel my favorite TV show. They can stop stocking that wine I love. But you...YOU! You don't fuck with my hair product! Discontinuing a gay man's hair product is a cardinal sin punishable by switching brand loyalty in an instant. You haven't seen fickle before today! If this other stuff is even remotely bad, I'm outta here!

Sincerely,

Hair Filled with Trepidation, which provides no hold...

Out

Old Poetry...

I typed up some handwritten poems yesterday as a way to keep busy and not let my mind sit by itself. It hasn't been doing so well on its own lately. Believe it or not, some of those poems stood up surprisingly well to aging. I only came across one or two that made me scratch my head and one that I couldn't even figure out what it was about. Cryptic, indeed.

This one was especially funny to me, because I don't recall writing it.

Poem After Too Much Wine



Set me free to be

the one who fails spectacularly

Who drinks too much

and says fuck you

or come over so I can.



Let me free to be

the one who crashes willingly,

to throw off the veneer

of perfection saddled

and be a great big mess.



To let my outside

Match my inside

Just for once.

------------
So, yeah...lots of fun. Anywho, I've got a lot going on today, so I don't have time to sit around on the computer. I'm at work until 6, and then I go straight to dinner with friends, and then it's straight to United Campus Ministry for the first service of the year. It will be nice seeing people I haven't seen since before Christmas. And what better way to make an impression than in bank attire? I'm going to be itching to get out of that tie...
Out

Baby's First Headphones...

So, I'm hesitant to admit this since people think I'm some kind of freak every time I say it, but...here goes.  I bought my first pair of headphones on Sunday.  First.  Like...I've never owned a pair.  I've always wanted a pair, but I just never had one.  So, for the first time in my life, I can hear music on headphones.  Let me tell you...I feel like the time I've spent listening to music before now has been a complete waste.  Songs I've known all my life have become things entirely foreign to me.  There are instruments and background noises that I never picked up on before.  Everything is so bright and shiny and deep.  

I feel like this is something that you should need a prescription for...or...a license...or something.  It feels like medication...and it's delivered in the most wonderful of ways.  It's like...aural sex, which, by the way, is what I'm going to call my first album if I ever start a band.  Aural Sex.  I feel like that should be the name of a Warrant album or something.  Anyway...

First.  Headphones.  Ever.  

I've wasted more time today at the computer than ever before--only because I'm looking for every and any reason to stay immersed in music.  The real world feels so flat right now.

Out

No, Seriously...

What do you do with a BA in English?

A friend was talking about working for Groupon at 30K+ a year. That's not too shabby. He didn't get the job, but...it's something.

Why am I talking about this? Oh, no specific reason...I'm just feeling a little useless lately. It's like, I went to college. I graduated summa cum laude. Top of my class. And what am I doing? Working part-time at a bank. Writing novels on the side. Not editing. I couldn't support myself if I needed to. If something happened to Robb, I'd be moving back in with my parents. I don't want to have to do that, because then I'd also be jobless. It wouldn't be worth it to drive an hour to work every day.

I have nightmares where I go back to Sullivan's...another grocery store job...and it's terrible. Everyone I know there has moved up in the company and I'm still a part-time cashier. I don't know where anything is. I don't know what to do. And I'm older than everybody, even my boss. Thank God it's only a nightmare. But, honestly, it could become a reality. God forbid.

I just...felt like I'd be doing more with my life at almost 30. I'll be 28 in April. I can't leave my job until July at the earliest, since I'm still paying for this computer. If I leave, I'd have to pay the remaining balance up front. Right now, that would be almost $700, I think. I don't have that.

I could move up, maybe, someday. I don't want to work at a bank all my life, though.

That begs the question, "What do you want to do?"

Own a bookstore. I want to be the owner of a used bookstore. I really do. It's a dream. Just a dream. Realistically? I don't know. I want to get paid to write. I want to do something that makes me feel smart again. I feel so dumb...and I feel like I'm getting stupider all the time. I need to go back to school. I figured I'd be through grad school and teaching college lit by now. I'm kind of glad I didn't take that route, since the economy went south and schools are STILL feeling the aftershock of all of that. But still...

Sorry. This is bleak stuff. I'm just looking at my life and thinking about change and how impossible it would be right now.

Just call me the news stand at the end of the world.

Out

Weather Bomb!!!

I was sitting in the laundromat last night, waiting for my whites to whiten and my colors to clean, and between checking out the hot guy behind the counter and the hot guy sitting a few seats away in his hockey coat, I caught the weather.

They were talking about the system that is moving toward New York (glad I live in Illinois--where the s is silent), and the weather man actually said these words: "We're calling it a weather bomb."

Not. Even. Kidding. Weather bomb. Seriously?! It can't just be bad weather. It can't be some snow, not even "the most snow we've seen in years", no no! It has to be a fucking WEATHER BOMB. Ugh.

A murder isn't just unfortunate. It's MURDERGATE!

A cat in a tree? No. FELINE CATASTROPHE!

A bomb threat? NO! TERROR WATCH 2011!!!

Nothing is just...what it is. Every little thing has to be something inflated, scary, huge!

A fucking weather bomb. Ugh. I can't wait to see what they can tie to violence and fear next!

Out

Website Roll Call...

Well, I haven't done this in a very, very long time, but I wanted to let you guys know what my time-sucks are lately.  I've been finding a lot of websites that are kind of fun, thanks to Stumble Upon.  What a time waster...so.  Without further fanfare on my part...the list.

www.8tracks.com - This music site lets you share and build custom playlists of up to eight songs (and longer?).  It's super fun and pretty easy to use!  Create and listen!  You can find me there under the same name as my Xanga ID.

www.tapthatguy.com - No.  It's not porn, although it certainly sounds like it could be.  It's the website that proves that EVERYONE is a creeper.  Even you and me!

www.isleoftune.com - Custom music generator.  It's colorful and fun!  Build a little neighborhood and listen to the music it creates as it comes to life!

www.balldroppings.com - Again, it's NOT porn.  Just try it!  I guarantee you'll like it!

And that's enough of a list to keep anyone busy for days!  Share your creations with me!  Viewtiful_Justin is not responsible for time lost or deadlines missed because of these websites.

Out

Dental Fizzle...

Apparently I'm insane.

I went in. They looked in my mouth. He touched around, chilled some of my teeth to check for sensitivity. I didn't feel anything. I told him where it was sensitive. He said there were no cavities. So...I paid him $40 to tell me to try Sensodyne toothpaste and ACT mouthwash. That's it. "Try that for a few weeks, and if you're still experiencing discomfort, come back."

So I can pay him another $40 to tell me there's nothing wrong...

Out

Return to Misery...

Ugh. Not sleeping, freaking out, worrying like crazy, blood pressure spikes, not eating...all things I do when I am having tooth problems. And boy howdy.

I have an appointment tomorrow at 11:30 to see if I can have two cavities filled or if I need a root canal on one...ugh. Could someone give me a winning lottery ticket? That'd be about the only way I could afford that.

Meanwhile, I'm trying to keep the monsters in my mind at bay that keep telling me I'm going to be a toothless young man who owes more in dental debt that he's worth.

I gotta stop talking about it or I'm going to get all sweaty and paranoid...

Out