Ever meet a guy who just looks like complete trouble? i saw a guy tonight that I haven't seen in about a month. I wasn't literally two steps in the door when he turned the corner and asked where i'd been and "gimme ya number before you leave. I've been thinking about you all the time." Hmm. Yeah, he's been thinking about what he wants from me, not because he likes me or wants to spend time with me. So, yeah. Trouble. That's all that can come from this. And yes, he got my number, and no, I don't expect him to become all noble and chivalrous. I want to meet a guy who's halfway decent. i know, that's such blah blah blah. Every girl says or thinks that at some point. I know they're out there, but why can't I meet them?  

 I hate feeling pathetic. That awful in-between when something is wrong but nothing is wrong. I just want to go somewhere, do something, be with someone. I can't tell you the last phone I got, because no one calls me. Except Mom. I guess everybody's lives are so busy. I understand, but I still have that out-of-touch feeling where no one is reaching out to me and I'm tired of reaching out to them. After a while, I forget to, too. And I want a hug. It's the most ridiculous, childish need, but I can't really remember my last hug. I think it was my mom on my birthday. I want to be near someone, in the same car with them, talking about anything. I feel sad. Not 'woe-is-me' or self-pity or anything. Just sad. And that's weird for someone who has depression. It's not the heavy depressed feeling, the feel sorry for me feeling. Sad.

i apologize now. both my shift buttons stick. if no capital letters and no question marks will send you into a seizure of rage, don't read this.
 
Sometimes I don't mind working with all men. other days, i can't stand it. i've heard the word pussy about 30 times tonight. normally, i wouldn't care, but hearing the same talk every night gets old. sometimes i think they like me; other times i'm not sure i can trust them.  i hate a gossip mill. and why do boys have to hit and kick stuff. grown men randomly kick walls and push over chairs.  makes me want to kick them. i just want to go home. i want to find a new job.  i hate night work. my mom and i have to write notes to communicate, because our schedules prevent us from seeing other but for about five minutes a day. it's hard to fit in your life and everything you wanted to say in five minutes. 

i really have nothing to say today. i'm at work now, of course, so i'm trying to find something to do to distract me - as my analyst throws a bottle top against the wall over and over and over for entertainment. i'm just waiting for the forklift races to happen one of these days, or to see who can climb the flimsy racks before they tumble. testosterone smells gross. and i fear i may actually catch coodies if i'm subject to these late nights much longer. sleeping during the day makes me feel like a vampire, but not in a good way. no fun flying, lurching creepily in the shadows, wearing fun capes/trenchcoats you'd just look stupid in during the day. oh, and no immortality. forgot that little benefit. would you want to live forever? the shift button worked, yay. i probably wouldn't, but an extended life could be pretty cool. mostly, i'd assume vampires wouldn't need to work. somebody please make me a vampire, in that case. 

i know they were probably playing, but i don't like hearing my name when i come back into a room. i should not be discussed by these people, ever. my paranoia is bad enough, thanks. oh, and i really, really hate when people whisper to each other while others are in the room. go the hell away if it's that important. grrr. 

i want a sidekick. no, not somebody to follow me around and accentuate my greatness. i want the phone/email/camera thing sidekick. i read an emo poll the other day, and one said something about sidekicks. a comment said sidekicks are more for scene kids than emo kids; they mixed up the genres. okay, i think i've got a general idea of what 'scene kids' are, but now i'm going to have to look it up on wikipedia, of course. what is a scene kid. we haven't finished figuring out what emo is yet. and what is the deal with cupcakes. hot topic has cupcake cult stuff, and it's all new to me. i'm becoming very behind on all the latest, i fear. still, if i'm a scene kid or emo kid or just a young adult who still acts like a kid, i want a sidekick. i've never seen one, and i'm thinking it's not very big in the south, or at least in mississippi. i've only spoken to one person with one, and he's from detroit, so... 

i'm reading on the road by jack keroac. i've always seen the name, but i haven't read any of his works. i've been hearing the name everywhere, it seems, after first hearing about it from - who else - pete wentz. leave me alone. i've checked out some of his recommended bands, and i like a few, so i figured i'd check out his literary rating abilities. i'm only about five pages, really, because it's difficult to read with all this noise. anyway. only five pages in, i'm craving a roadtrip. i've always wanted to go on one, but no one else has the time or money. not that i do, but a short outing would be fun. if anyone is actually reading this, have you been on any roadtrips. i mean the kind without your parents. just you or you and some friends. where did you go; what did you do. what places do you recommend in the united states. 

i better. we have less than two hours, which means suddenly there is work to do instead of just the staring at the wall.

 I get really irritated when people think they know anything about me just because they've spent more than an hour in my presence. This analyst at work makes all of these remarks as if he knows something about me. He said I'm trying to be a hippie. Um, why? Because I'm a Beatles fan? Actually, I grew up listening to them and many other bands from my parents' early days. I enjoy them. My parents certainly aren't hippies, and the type of music I listen to does not make me one thing or another. Yes, I like My Chem. Am I emo? No. Hell, I'm not even entirely sure what emo music really is. Some bands are given the label, but I would have never considered them to be so. And if they are, then so are a lot of other bands from, say, the mid to late nineties, but they never were labeled with emo. Then again, I'm going to hell because I don't hate gay people, or so all the conservative Christians I know think. But wait, "We don't hate guy people; we disagree with what they do." And condemn them to hell for it. I also am goth, overglam, or a prostitute because I like to use a lot of eyeliner and eyeshadow when i'm not running late, i.e. rarely every so often. Or so my brother and others who don't like a lot of make-up insist on telling me.  I'm a nasty whore because I liked a black boy and hung out with guys at a job where I am the only girl. At least that's what my other brother believes, because he gave me the ultimatum: never see a black boy outside work and stop hanging out with them at work or he's done with me. I was discussing school with one brother who is a  scientist. My interests are history, philosophy, psychology, and religion. He went into a rant on more than one occasion about all "that liberal shit" I like. Did I mention he thinks I'm simple-minded because I believe in God? I wish people wouldn't assume to know me or try to make me feel guilty for what I believe or like. But "You're the only one that can make you feel guilty. You should really read into Zen." Um, yeah. I'm just as educated as you there, buddy. I know about Zen, and the tone you're using with me is saying, "I want you to feel bad for what you think because it's stupid, and so are you if you continue to believe it." 

Leave me alone! I am not going to feel bad for what I believe. Fuck you people. When were your opinions given the utmost power of authority? I do not feel, I don't know, like saddened or anything. I am more pissed off than anything. I am not crying in the corner somewhere. I would rather hit them all in the mouth. I do not give you bullshit for your beliefs and likes. Don't give me shit for mine. Why is that such a hard concept for people to understand?

My ex-best friend apparently does not wish to renew the friendship. We have not spoken in months but recently we got back in touch. She freaked out on me Sunday. You accused me a lying about something, and I am still trying to figure out what. I tend not to believe people who refuse to back things up with an explanation. If someone is going to accuse me, I have the right to know what I've allegedly done. It really sounds like someone is whispering in her ear, fanning the flames of her paranoia. She also will not speak to me in anything remotely civil. It's all hostile and accusatory. I can just picture her rolling her eyes with every word. I hate to say it, but she always sounds like she is some matyr.  I tell her I do not think she is a screw-up; she says, "Yeah, I know I suck. Isn't that why you stopped talking to me, because I'm just a screw-up." I am tired of reassuring her over and over again when she insists on thinking something. But I love her. She is a kindred. So what do I do? Keep my mouth shut and let her rage, let her moods run me down? Or voice my opinion, like she told me to, oddly enough? I thought kindreds where a lifelong thing, not like the other people in life - the ones whose paths cross with ours and then move on. I want to try, but she does not seem to want to. If I push her to, she will only resent me more. 

So what do I do? I cannot simply forget family, even the ones who are judging me. I cannot simply let go of a friend who has meant so much, who is so connected to me in such a way as she was. How do we stay true to ourselves and our paths without turning from others we love? Or is that our path? What is family but people with shared blood. We're all individuals with our own lives and belief systems. And what are friends but people we maybe wish were family but aren't tied to us with the sense of inarguable finality as shared genetics tend to give us. And what do we do when both family and friends make us feel bad for who we are when they helped make us who we are?  

I understand why my friend is irritated. Last night, the supervisor told us that we have to work on Friday night. Third shift works Sun - Thurs nights. Recently, due to something going on at the car plant we supply, they announced that we would be adding every other Friday to the schedule. Last Friday was our weekend to work, but they ended up calling that night off because of problems at the plant. Now that things have apparently been straightened out, they told us that we would be working this Friday instead. Amanda and I were set to leave for NO Friday night, though. At first, I decided I'd just call in and say I couldn't come to work. If I work tomorrow night, though, I'll have to leave the family dinner - my sister-in-law's and my birthday dinner - while everyone is still socializing to be at work on time. So, I thought about it all day today and decided that family comes before friends here. I can't call in two days in a row nor would I want to give up that money. As excited as I was about going to NO and roadtripping with Amanda, I need to stay here. If the concert were still this weekend, I might have even considered going down Saturday by myself and meeting them there, but I can live without clubbing and drinking. I understand why the sudden change in plans is irritating, but what am i supposed to do? Tell Mom and Dad, 'Hate to cut short the get-together in (partially) my honor, but I'd rather get drunk this weekend.' Uh, no. 

Have I mentioned that I hate this job? I feel like an idiot at this place. All I do: print, staple, repeat. Write down a name. Print, staple, repeat. Rocket science, it is not. Horribly frustrating? Yes. I can feel my brain cells dying from lack of use. 

Ah well. It's 00:10 here in Jackson, MS, which means it is officially my birthday! I can smell the chocolate chips in my cookie cake already. I bought a book tonight called The Vampire Book. Original, I know. It's a thick volume of vampirism throughout history, including religion, supersitition, media, and general culture (i.e. Modern Goth). On the front is a cool picture of Keifer Sutherland from The Lost Boys. Ah, memories.

The asshole analyst was just honking the forklift horn at me through the window. We have Nextel for a reason. His fat ass couldn't walk the twenty-five feet to the office door and then the five whole feet to the boss' office to see if she is in there himself? I just want to kick him in the crouch. And then castrate him. and then set him on fire... Okay, perhaps the last option was a bit macabre. Still...

I'll leave you with that lovely image.

R.

 I hate working nights. Have I mentioned that before? 2300 to 0700 is a god-awful shift, and I'm looking for a new job. On one hand, i probably shouldn't go to yet another job. Looking back at my employment record, I'm feeling a bit, er, unstable. I'd like to think it would be different if I actually had work to occupy my time. Instead, if I add up all the actual work I do, it only really fills about three of the eight hours I'm here. I can't stand this! I've tried reading to keep myself busy, but at the two o'clock in the morning, it can be hard to keep my eyes from blurring the words. Nights are meant for sleeping, hanging out with friends, or some sort of soul-searching... not work. On the other hand, this schedule is making me feel disoriented all the time. Even on teh weekends when I'm off, my schedule is completely thrown off. I plan on going back to school within the next year for my History degree, and this won't work. I've considered double majoring, too, but money for one specialization will be hard enough to come by. I've tried so many things that at this point, I don't care if I'm poor the rest of my life as long as I get to study what I want. Ha, I say that now... Hell, I'll be poor no matter what, it seems, so I might as well be the History and Language/Linguistic geek I've always wanted to be. In the meantime, I apologize in advance for my new mantra, "I hate working nights, i hate working nights..."

My birthday is Thursday! Am I truly excited? 23 really isn't an exciting age; nothing special happens. I am excited, however, about my brother, sister-in-law, and niece coming up for the evening. Mom is going to cook a conglameration of my favorite foods (cookie cake!), and I'm sure to recieve at least one cd and one dvd from someone.  My friend Amanda is graduating CT school Friday. Her birthday was last Thursday, and she had really wanted to see Jonny Lang at the House of Blues in New Orleans this weekend. For whatever reason, the performance was rescheduled for January. We decided that we will still go to New Orleans to celebrate both birthdays and her graduation.  I went to an Atlanta Braves' game when I was about ten in NO and haven't been back since. I drink, but alcohol isn't a favorite of mine. I always think of the British slang 'sloshed,' because that's why i don't like to get drunk - I can literally feel all the the liquid sloshing around in my stomach.  I shouldn't have to tell anybody that when your head is spinning, the last thing you need is a sloshing stomach. New Orleans has a rich history, though, and I can still picture all the mausaleums (sp?) we passed on the way to the game.  The people I'm going with do not care much for history, I am fairly certain. On the plus side, though, perhaps I can tour the city a bit while they sleep off the night before. As excited as I am about going out of time with Amanda, I am a little wary of her friends. I'm sure they are nice people, but I'm nervous around anyone I don't know, nevermind clubbing in a strange city with them. Hell, clubbing makes me nervous enough. I'm not the club-hopping type to begin with. Will they let me enter wearing my day-to-day jeans and T-shirt? Let's hope so, because I have been too poor for too long to have gotten around to buying dress clothing.  Well, there is always my funeral stand-by. You never know when somebody will keel over. *cough*  Sorry. There isn't a lot I want this year, but I am hoping for a little bit of money from my various extended family like usual. I really, really want to buy my acoustic guitar soon. I can't justify spending the money I have now on anything other than bills, but birthday money is free game - or so the rule goes, I've heard. :-) 

My true birthday celebration will be October 27th in Memphis. Amanda and I are going to see Fall Out Boy and Gym Class Heroes in concert. I'm so excited. She knows nothing about them, but I know nothing about Jonny Lang either. The experience will fun, though. Doesn't Pete look lovely in my icon? So moody, so model-like... Hehe. He looks good there, but at the same time, it cracks me up to see a 'punk' band member posing for sexy pictures like that. Uh, nevermind. I just realized what I said. (Note to non-FOB fans: there was a nude picture scandal a few years back. I'll leave it at that.)

In even more exciting news, my other sister-in-law had another doctor's appointment the other day. The baby is big anough now that the sonogram can make out tiny human characteristics. The doc said Baby is very active and looks healthy. Jenn says she feels him/her moving around all the time now.  I would scan and post a picture of the ultrasound, but there is just something wrong with posting a picture of my sister-in-law's uterus on the internet.

I am a bit disappointed that another friend of mine has not made any time to hang out. We had a 'falling out' several months ago and have recently started talking again. Well, it's not so much talking as sending text messages asking when the other person will be off work and if they would like to do something. Even when we make plans for the following day, I may not hear from her at all. It took her two days and a threat of me showing up at her job or apartment for her to respond. She is my best friend, or was anyway. We haven't spoken in months, and I would like to see her for just a minute. I don't know why. I guess to prove that it really is her that I am talking to. I miss her. She says she is having a rough time again. I hate it for her, but there's nothing I can do.

 Okay, i'll admit i talk a little too much sometimes, as far as what needs to be said and what doesn't. but i absolutely hate when someone is a smartass but can't take someone else being a smartass. i'm overly sensitive. that's why i just keep my mouth shut for the most part. this guy at work, however, just has to say everything with sarcasm and attitude. so, stupid me, i gave it right back to him. i asked if he was going to do something that analyst are supposed to do. i was even going to offer to do it if he didn't have time, until he said, 'yeah i'll do it when i'm done doing all the other crap i'm supposed to do.' i just wanted a yes or no. then i could have offered to do it, and hey, everything's golden. but this guy's got this smartass tone that grades on my nerves. i know the worst thing you can do is mock a man. ooooh, they can't stand that shit. i didn't yell, though, which probably would have been better. i said, 'aww, victim. i asked you to do something. i'm sorry.'  i always call people victims when they get the, woe is me, what more will the world lay at my feet, attitude. i let people get by with it, because hell, i do it sometimes. but this guy, grrrrr. he does it all the time, talking as though he's the only person is the building who knows what the hell is going on. gah. i hate that. so, he's pissed off at me.  i can try not to care, but i do. cause this guy really isn't all that bad, he just gets on my nerves with his superior attitude. i'm not in any position to talk back or cause trouble. i'm on final warning for my earlier stupid mistake. does that mean i take everybody's shit without reply... i suppose it does. i should be as humble as possible, i know - thankful for even having a job. but good lord. i can't stand it. i hate being at this building instead of my old one with my few friends and my cousin. these people are just different. they're okay, i guess, but i had come to terms with that place. they moved me, they said, because my cousin and i can't work together. we got away with the first month together because, hell, i don't know why. a slip up. i'd much rather be over there. hell, i'd rather not working at a warehouse with all asshole guys, but for now, i have no choice. 

sorry about the no caps and no questions marks. the shift button sticks on this work keyboard and its maddening.

Well, I still don't know the final outcome of Friday's stupidity. The boss says they're "still investigating" the incident, and I should know by the end of the week if I'll be fired or not. I'm not optimistic. If I were them, I wouldn't be lenient. Of course, it sucks pretty bad because the pay I'm giving up is the best I've ever had and probably the best I could expect without a college degree or a stellar resume. But the worst part of this day was my confession to my mother. I couldn't tell her about the job situation without giving her a basic rundown of all the other things I've been hiding. The thing Friday really freaked me out because the ease with which it happened. I fucked up without a single thought towards the consequences. I mean, forget the five year plan - I didn't consider the five minutes later. It took only one hour for my world to come crashing down because of 10 seconds of not thinking. Go me. For such an intelligent person, I'm a dumbass. I admitted to Mom my two years of drug use. She cried. I told her how I quit all that in January, but when I get down more down than usual, I immediately feel the urge to use again. She cried some more. Then I gave her a summary of Friday's events. She cried both sad and enraged tears on that one. Ultimately, I said I can't be trusted and will need her help in watching me and keeping substances out of my reach (since they were her pain pills from her knee surgery I had been stealing all last year). I'm ready to be a decent person, the one I started out as but veered violently away from a few years back.

Yeah, you're right. That was a tough conversation to have.

But the day will only get worse. Dad won't get home until this evening, and that's when I'll be shitting myself. No, seriously, I may actually move my bowels into Victoria Secret panties. See, Dad and I are a lot alike. We're the quiet type, and we've never done a lot of sharing of emotion over the years. They're the best parents anyone could have, and the last thing they deserve are horrible children who go against everything we were taught. It's the breaking of that silence that scares me. It's also the continuing of the silence as well, the knowing that behind that stoic face is utter disappointment and a good bit of anger too. Luckily, I'll be asleep until then and won't have to harp on it all day. I'll be an emotional wreck for work tonight, but hey, that's what I get for being an idiot. I feel awful for what I've done and what I'm doing to them, but a part of me feels better. I don't want to be a stranger to my parents, and all this hiding what driving me further and further away.

Sure, I say that now. Wait until tonight when Dad's eyes are glowing red and Mom's crying again and I'm crying again. And, oh wait, what if tonight's the night they fire me? That'll round things off well. I'll live, though.

(P.S. If you're the praying sort, please pray for my good friend's brother-in-law. He was a dumbass Friday, too, and drove drunk. The truck flipped nose first a few times. He's completely shattered now and in ICU with a drain for the blood on his brain. The surgery to piece his hip back together is this afternoon. He broke seven ribs, and it's a wonder he didn't puncture his lungs and heart. He's only in his late forties with a 21 year old daughter. They say he should pull through, but he's got a long way to go. Thanks.)

~R

I'm probably about to get fired for doing something very stupid. It was innocent, and people have done a lot worse. But that doesn't mean shit at this company. They look for reasons to fire people. I'm screwed. What now? I put family in the spotlight, too, which is the worst. I have to answer to my boss who is also my cousin. My brother works there too. I've already gotten a call from both of them. They're pissed to say the least. And even if I manage to keep this job, my boss won't be able to trust me again, because when he first asked, I denied it. It's hard to know who I'm talking to up there. Sometimes we talk like family and other times, coworkers.