in which I slowly get more and more depressed as I write
09.05.04 @ 9:42 p.m.
Holy crap. I've gotten seventy bazillion hits from Wigu in the last few days because J. Ro apparently updated his reader art page to include my stuffed Sheriff Pony. (Who is staring at me now from the dinner table. I had to get him out for a cuddle when I saw all the Wigu.com hits.) I kind of wish I had gotten one of the old school "I am made of Poison" shirts. Or maybe "Obliteratin' the Universe." (<3 <3 Sheriff Pony and Topato <3 <3) (Mostly Sheriff Pony, but the trip back in time to name Princess Dongle is just an exercise in AWESOME all around.) The current storyline is a brilliant 'Magical Adventures in Space does The Inferno' thing.
Um. Right.
I took Bobby D. for a walk down in Amazon park today, which isn't too bad. Crowded on a sunny Sunday afternoon, especially with couples on blankets, which sparks stupid jealousy in me, of course. Knowing the Who Boy is enrolled at school again is not helping my mental stability. Nor has the steady summer diet of Regency Romance novels. ("I am a dashing rake! To all appearances, I drink, gamble, and ravish married ladies! And Cyprians! Being near me will probably ruin your reputation, but deep down I'm really very honorable!" "I am a lady reaching the end of marriageable age or a spinster under thirty, because I buck propriety and refuse stupid suitors! That, or I've somehow been occupied in the country, and now I will transform from unremarkable to the Belle of the Season!" Misunderstanding, angst, makeouts, ridiculously wacky plot, marriage proposal.) Christ, you just know I'm going to end up writing a new Regency when NaNoWriMo comes along. The point is that I managed to exhaust the dog for a while, which was a blessing, since he's getting unmanagable and kind of becoming a pain to deal with. Of course, I tired myself out a bit, too, but didn't realize until I got home. I am so fricking out of shape, it's pathetic.
Bobby keeps digging at corners. It's freaking me out.
He keeps chewing things up and getting into things he shouldn't. I'm going to have to decide soon whether to try to keep him or not. And I'm really conflicted about it. I love him and hate to think of him languishing, lonely, out in the kennel. Or my dad might sell him (but probably not, since he didn't keep the label from his last shot, which he did for all the ones he sold/intended to sell). On the other hand, can I deal with the responsibility, the chewing of my possessions, and the FUCKING HAIR ALL OVER? I feel so terribly shallow for yearning for a return to my dog hair free existance. Can I get rid of a dog that loves me (and that I'm quite fond of) in the name of convenience? I feel less lonely with him around, to be sure. But is that staving off my need to be with other people, which has to be more important?
I knew it was good when the Who Boy left, because I had to break away from the fixation. The logical part of me sees that it's so stupid, I don't even know him, never see him, am not even 100% sure that I know his last name. And yet, and yet... here I am, gleefully remembering sea green eyes and army green converse. Suede jacket.
Stop it! Stop this ridiculousness. It's not worth it, torturing myself this way. Probably if I weren't so fucking lonely all the time, I would not be such an idiot. But I have nothing better to do than to retreat into my imagination, and get depressed when I realize that I'm doing it again and the end result is pulling myself away from people.
It's a staggering and saddening realization that when Moni leaves, I will have no friends in Eugene. None. Losing Ena is really a lot more of a blow than I thought. She was my best friend in this town, someone to watch movies with, someone whose quirks I knew, someone I could tell things to. How many times did I start talking to her and ended up crying because I had gotten into something personal? It sounds like a bad thing, but I never open up to anyone, except the ever-impersonal internet. I very honestly suspect there is serious social dysfunction in my personality. I'm crying now, and logged out of my messengers because I couldn't deal with making inane conversation with the people who are there.
Jodi was my best friend once. We grew apart and now I really doubt I could talk honestly to her. I can't even talk completlely honestly here. I'm always, always censoring myself. Such a thing makes me want to keep a paper diary, but that's harder to do than typing things up and I know I can't keep both at once. Hell, if I post in the Confessions thread on Dumbrella, I don't remember to write here because by then it's out of my system and I don't need to dwell all over again.
I'm sorry I've gotten like this. I'm sorry to all the people from Dumbrella who have stumbled on this wretched self pity party and all the strangers from Wigu who've done the same. I'm not going to delete it because obviously I need to work this out, get the catharsis over with before I implode in a spontaneous combustion of self-loathing.
I am so, so insecure. What a note to end the night on.
Previously
fuck it @ 08.01.05
fanciful imaginary sea voyages to come @ 07.20.05
*dies* @ 07.19.05
more ootp @ 07.17.05
harry potter: driving our children into devil worship @ 07.17.05
