It's a GAD GAD World
Saturday, September 20, 2008
The title pretty much sums up how I feel about myself right now.

So...the Guitar God finally got in touch with me on Tuesday (his birthday). His email was very brief (his emails always are), but he was polite enough to thank me. So of course I shot him an email right back & called him & left a msg on his answering machine like the pathetic wench that I am.

I went to a concert tonight. And as I heard the band play I leaned towards the empty seat next to me and imagined that he was sitting there. During the slow romantic number I stroked my own hand imagining that it was his. I can't even count how many times I've gone to a concert alone and wished that someone special was sitting next to me enjoying the aural bliss as much as I was.

If the only measure of your words and your deeds is the love you leave behind when you're gone, then my words and deeds are worth nothing.

I won tickets to a concert earlier this week. So I sent out an email blast to my so-called friends asking if anyone wanted to go with me. No one responded.

No wonder I spend every fucking holiday alone. If I can't even get someone to go to a free concert with me, what makes me think I'm a decent enough human being to warrant spending holiday time with?

I'm sorry, people. I'm just in a major funk right now. I'm torn between wanting to cry myself to sleep, wanting to fuck someone's brains out (preferably Guitar God's, but that's negotiable), and wanting to rip someone limb from limb (there are several candidates I could choose from on this front). And no, I don't think it's PMS.

I've been taking more shit at work. Sometimes I wish I could be fired so I could just hibernate in my apartment for at least a week just to decompress.

My dead friend's relatives are giving away her clothes this weekend. So I'm going to head out there & see what kind of bargains I can snag.

Not much else to say. Just 48 hours of being away from the cesspool so I can get up and do it all over again.

Sunday, September 14, 2008
I went to Guitar God's apartment and left a package with the doorman, who didn't want to accept it because he thought it needed to be refrigerated. As I explained to him, it was a homemade "Party in a Bag": a package of cupcakes with a little box of birthday candles taped to them, a cigarette lighter for the candles, a card, and a can of beer. The doorman balked at the cupcakes. I said, "They're Hostess cupcakes. They're still inside the package. They don't need to be refrigerated. Do you know how many preservatives are in those things?"

*sigh* The things we do for love...

GG isn't home now. He's out-of-town co-gigging with a friend. But he should be home by tomorrow unless he decides to stop off in CT.

I was reading this essay in a magazine about how this woman decided to give up the need to be loved for Lent. She would go on expressing love to the people who were important to her, but for 40 days she would let go of the need to expect anything in return. And because it was an article in a magazine full of positive pop-psychology bullshit, Wonderful Things Happened as a result.

I'm wondering if maybe this is what I should do. I stop myself from expressing love because I know it will alienate people. Like the Guitar God. For 6 goddamn years I've been hoping that maybe he might suggest we get together for a cup of coffee or something. Even that would be enough for me. For 6 years I've emailed him occasionally (but not too often) to let him know I'm thinking of him. On the rare occasions when he's had gigs, I've gone faithfully even when his performance was less than stellar. (He sabotages himself, I think he's got a self-esteem problem. And I think I know a little something about self-esteem problems.) I send him Christmas cards. The only reason I haven't recognized his birthday until now was because I didn't know when it was until a few months ago.

I've held back, because I knew if I didn't, he would disappear. And that's exactly what happened. Almost 2 months ago I took leave of my senses, threw caution to the wind, and expressed my feelings. And he's disappeared. Not a phone call, not an email, nothing.

I wish I could just let go of the need to be loved. I wish I could yank myself free of it like you yank a plug out of a wall socket. It isn't even about sex anymore. The doxepin has taken care of that for me, thank God. Now I just wish I had someone to come home to, to curl up on the couch and watch TV with. To crawl into bed and have someone beside me.

In other news, I do have my new computer. I went through hell trying to purchase it once I gave up on my so-called "friend" who just wanted to take my money, but I have it now. That's the good news. The bad news is that Windows Vista & Excite don't always get along. But it's way better than Windows 98.

One more item of note: Almighty Performing Arts College posted a position that I thought looked right up my alley. So of course I applied for it the day it was posted. The next day a response popped up in my inbox. I was at work when I got it, so I didn't open it until I got home that night. I've sent resumes to this place before, and usually when you apply via email they send you a little "thanks for sending your resume, if we like you, we'll call you" message.

This was different. This was a real msg created by a real (unnamed) human that said, "This is an entry-level position with a commensurate salary. Can you tell us your salary requirements and why you want an entry-level job?"

Uh-oh. The good news is they've actually looked at my resume and found it appealing. The bad news is now they're fishing for a reason to reject me.

I just sent them a response. I won't go into everything, but I told them that I've seen similar positions at other institutions who actually post the salaries on their websites, and there are a number of colleges who would pay an entry-level person more than what I'm currently earning.

Further bulletins as events warrant...

Monday, September 08, 2008
This is the irrefutable conclusion to which I've come.

I won't go into details for privacy reasons, but I had to deal with some major snarky rudeness today at work. Or maybe that's majorly rude snarkiness. Who knows?

It seems to be getting worse. Ever since my ultra-efficient colleague left (and even SHE's been rude to me of late), I've just been getting hit with it over and over. Maybe she was dealing with this shit all along & I never got it because she was there to buffer me.

I'm just sick of it. SICK SICK SICK SICK SICK of it!

I feel like a small sailboat that's been caught in a never-ending hurricane. I just want to go into my harbor. But I don't even know where my harbor is or how to find it.

I would give anything to curl up in someone's arms and cry. Not that this would solve anything. But it sure as hell would make me feel better.

When do I get to be safe? When is it my turn to be comforted?

If it weren't for my cat I don't know what I'd do. He is the only living, breathing being on this earth whom I can touch on a regular basis. When I hold him and he purrs, I feel like nothing bad can ever happen to me.

And now for the obligatory updates. I saw my p-doc again on 8/29. Nothing major, just 10 minutes of BS & a new prescription for doxepin.

Nothing major on the job-search front either. I look for things on a daily basis, but there's not much out there. I want to make sure my next move is the right move.

I think I'm going to drown my sorrows in a pint of Haagen-Dazs now.

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