It's a GAD GAD World
Saturday, August 29, 2009
I've spent much of today watching the coverage of Ted Kennedy's funeral. And bawling like a baby.

I didn't pay much attention to him when he was alive. Of course, I knew who he was, but it's not like he was MY senator or anything. It's only been in the wake of his passing that I've come to realize how much he's done for me. Ted Kennedy was at least partially (if not largely) responsible for the Americans wit Disabilities Act, COBRA, HIPPA, and the Mental Health Parity Act--all of which have affected me at some point.

Every crazy person in this country (and there are approximately 54 million of us, according to the statistic cited by Kennedy's son Patrick in his eulogy) owes Ted Kennedy a huge thank you. It's because of him that we can fight discrimination in the workplace because of our psych issues (as I may have to do very soon, seeing as how my boss does not understand that my insomnia is a documented medical condition). And it's because of him that our psych issues are required to have the same insurance coverage as any other medical issue.

No one needs to tell me that he wasn't a saint. Not even close. But over and over, story after story is coming out of how this hugely famous and powerful man cared about ordinary people. And I realize what a loss this country has suffered. And so I weep.

Saturday, August 08, 2009
Didja hear about the shooting that happened in Pittsburgh this week?

A 48-year old gunman walked into a health club, went into a room where a mostly (if not all) female exercise class was going on, turned out the lights, and started shooting. By the time all was said and done, 3 women were dead and so was he, turning the gun on himself.

The ensuing investigation revealed that the gunman had posted a blog on the internet, listing his date of birth, and listing his date of death as the date of the shooting. In addition to discussing in detail his plans to carry out the shooting, he shared other observations of his life. Among them:

*All he did was go to work, come home, eat, putter around until it's time to go to bed, then he would get up and do it all over again.

*He had absolutely no luck with the opposite sex despite not being "too weird or ugly", and hadn't had any sexual encounters in over a decade.

*He felt his family didn't love him.

People, I COULD HAVE WRITTEN THIS BLOG! As far as I can tell, there are only 2 main differences between this guy and myself. The first is that he resented beautiful young women because he couldn't HAVE them, and I resent them because I can't BE them. The second is that I don't have any plans to kill anybody.

But what if that's not true? If I've got so much in common with this painfully lonely person who felt his life didn't amount to anything, what's to say that I won't develop into some sort of psycho killer?

On the other hand, recent Savage Love and Time Out New York sex columns have revealed to me that I am far from being the only virgin on the planet with gray hair and wrinkles who doesn't belong to a celibate religious order. So maybe I'm not so weird after all.

Soon it will be time for me to mail my special birthday package to the Guitar God. I've got most of the stuff & I've plotted out the CD playlist (it'll have to be 2 CDs instead of 1). I just have to burn the CDs, then wrap and number the gifts. And write some stuff.

When I first conceived of the idea I was a little hesitant because I thought, what if I spend all this money and then by the time his birthday rolls around I hate his guts? Well, with a little more than a month to go I don't hate his guts. But I'm also a cold hard realist. I have no illusions that my gift is going to warm his heart and win him over. (I can HOPE, but there's a big difference between hoping and expecting.) There's also the possibility that he and I may never speak again after I do this. (If he doesn't at least THANK me for what I'm about to do, I doubt I'm going to waste any time on him ever again.)

So why am I doing it? I'm doing it because just once in my life I want to give a special guy an amazing, thoughtful, romantic gift. I'm not getting any younger, and my special guy prospects are not getting any better. Not that they were ever good. But Guitar God IS a special guy to me, has been for some time. It's just that I'm not special to him.

I met another guy at a concert a few months ago. He's got flaming red hair, so I'll call him Red. It so happened that I had my voice recorder with me when I went to this concert, & I showed it to him afterwards. He told me that he'd like to have a copy, and we exchanged emails.

About a week later I shot him an email explaining that burning a CD off my voice recorder wasn't a quick 10-minute process, and that he shouldn't expect to get it right away. He was miffed and I felt bad about that, so I spent the next few weekends busting my ass to get all the other stuff out of the way so I could burn it for him. This was around the beginning of June. I haven't heard from him since until last week when he emailed me to tell me about a series of concerts this artist is doing. They're at 11pm on Sunday nights, so there's no chance in hell of my going. I didn't tell him that though. I didn't tell him anything. I'm hoping he'll show up and wonder whether I'm going to be there.

There's a concert coming up in October in which he expressed a lot of interest. I wasn't so interested, but I bought a ticket anyway in the hopes that I might see him. I'm going to bring the cd with me, and if I do see him, I'll give it to him there. If not, I'm going to mail it to his workplace (yes, I know where he works, the internet is a wonderful tool!) with a note attached: "You are not the only human being in the universe who's busy." Then I'll leave it at that.

Work is hell. Same shit, different week. I've been actively checking Craigslist, Monster, Hotjobs, Indeed, and Idealist. Sometimes I look at CareerBuilder, but I hate that site. It's so bulky and unwieldy. I haven't had a single interview. Not even a phone call.

But I'm fully prepared to be fired. Over the past 2 weeks I've spent a staggering amount of money on groceries. I did the math, and I figure I can last about 7 months on what money I have saved up with no additional income. If I apply for unemployment and get it, I can last longer.

I swear, the first thing I'm going to do when I get fired is take some drugs and just sleep. And sleep. And sleep. Then I'm going to clean the shit out of my apartment. Then I might do some writing.

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