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august 25, 2000. Should I still be dating Alexi, today would have been our 6th anniversary. I mention this only because if this were true, I'd probably be getting married today. To him. Six years is a long time, and we'd been heading in that direction even before we broke up. It's funny to think that if it weren't for Paris, I'd be married to Alexi right now.
That makes me very, very happy. Thank god for That Tuesday and all the attendant pain & madness. I'm finally and completely through the chute, and I couldn't be more joyful.
(it's not a very good picture, and it's not a very nice thing to say. but i still laughed my ass off. i've been waiting to hear somebody say something like that for a long time.)
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My head hurts and my stomach hurts and that means I'm no good to no one right now. So here I am. Ta da.
It gets like this sometimes when I have to sort through a whole bunch of my crap. That's all it is: crap. It's the crap I've been hauling from place to place with me, the crap I've used to build my cocoon. But I'm moving across the goddamn country on Tuesday, and there's only so much space in the van. Plus, I have to account for the crap of my better half. "The better half of crap" is just not an inspiring sentence.
Half my wedding presents are being left behind. You have no idea what kind of psychic damage this does to me. My mother was helping me make decisions, and that was the only way I could get through it. Imagine: I have to chose between a cuisinart, given to me by my close cousin, and the kick-ass blender that Stacy gave us. No vases. No decorative candles - Christ, half the presents we received were decorative candles. (The other half were towels. If I could figure out how to build a vacuum cleaner from scented candles & towels, I'd be set.)
I know, these aren't problems. They're the whimperings of a spoiled princess. But no matter how many times I tell myself that, I still want to bring the gleaming new fondue set.
Once upon a time, my mother went on a convent retreat. (We're not Catholic, but let that go for the time being.) When she came back, she told me that upon taking vows, each new sister has a chest in her cell that she's able to fill with personal items. And every year, the number of personal, fetishy items - in essence, the sheer need for crap - is diminished. Every once in awhile, as I fill up the garbage can yet again, I try to keep that image in front of me.
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This is a new computer. A new baby, a parting gift from my parents. Unfortunately, the version of Microsoft Word is driving me crazy...I can't open my html files as text in the bloody thing. Can anyone tell me how to circumvent the automatic html writer function? Right now I'm cutting & pasting between Notepad & Word, but I don't want to do this every day.
But other than that major frustration, it's lovely. Keyboard nicely springy...case unsullied by pop-can accidents...no crashes so far...mmmyep.
"Life is a pretty sweet fruit." |
"this is your ex-boyfriend? so you,