For you, the dress code is casual.

Tuesday, July 25, 2006

Putting Money Where Mouth Is

I did a rant about being single, sort of, but more about a couch, on the Cunt last night.

It felt great to get that out of my system, and it made me realize how pissed off I feel about just being this, I don't know, disposable? Not that I *am* disposable, or that I have been disposed of -- just that I feel so disconnected to the world at large that it seemed to me I could just up and fucking disappear, and the world wouldn't lament a bit. (I know, you bloggie junkies would miss me, but since you're not actually a part of my life in reality, a lot of good that does, you know?)

Today, I took a while to get out of the house, but once I did, I had a good day followed by a better night. I worked on a documentary show all day, which rocked, 'cos I learned so much about water infrastructure it's not even funny, and believe me, it's more fascinating than you might think, but since there's a "non-disclosure" rule and all, I can't tell you the actual content of the show until after it airs.

Sucks to be employed, you know.

But I took some time to check my email and found my first subscription to the weekly "" meets going on this week, and saw there was a movie one, and it was for Clerks II!

So, instead of a bikeride, I threw my bike on the bus, got my ass home, showered, got all dolled-up like since I figgered There Might Be Boys (not really looking just yet, but shit, I'll put my best foot forward, you know?) and all, rushed back down, and met some new people.

I had a hoot. It was a good time. The movie had me busting a fucking gut, I tell you. Sure, Rotten Tomatoes doesn't like it, but honestly, if Kevin Smith's your thing, then Clerks II is for you. It does the first one proud and I was laughing so hard I couldn't breathe at one point.

Two words: PUSSY TROLL.

That's all I'm sayin', man. And I mean troll as in under-the-bridge, not the verb, okay?

Who needs therapy when they have that shit at hand, you know? I gots to see me that movie again.

Depress-o-meter: Hey, you know what? I'm at a wicked 3 out of 10. (With 10 sucking eggs.) Pretty darned good. It's not that the evening was THAT incredible, but it was a nice fucking change of pace. New people, hope for me yet. I remember being popular. I remember being liked. I wonder what ever happened to that person, and tonight it felt like she was back. That's pretty fucking nice. Will I change my mind about the meds? I don't know, I don't think so. I know what I've got is chemical, and when I get up in the morning or in an hour from now, I'll have deflated again. That's the cycle. It's how it works. But I won't deflate as much, and when I do get on the meds, I'll have ALL the pieces in place for waging my war. And I'll win. And I know that. This time, for the long haul, I suspect.