2004-02-21 - 5:06 a.m.

I know the universe is fucking with me.

Remember a few months ago when I was all excited because I was getting new knobs for certain appliances and things in my house that had been knobless for a long time therefore making even simple things cumbersome? I thought getting those new knobs was going to be some monumental shifting of the way life goes for me…I was all ramped up about those knobs and then….guy forgets to bring them.


It has been decided that I am going to be moving in September. Okay, so really what the deal is is that I am SAYING I am moving in September and I am ACTING as though I am moving, preparing, gathering, packing, organizing, planning…but I am HOPING that I am NOT moving in September. My HOPE is that BECAUSE I am actually going through these motions and WILL move if need be, the universe will pull one of its fast ones on me and send the Boy HOME before I can get there. In my head, for the last two years, I have thought he would be home in September of 2004, so I am really hoping that I was right…otherwise I guess I will be living in France come September. ANYWAY…as I said, I am making the motions of movement. I am unburdening myself. I am making myself mobile. This is a really difficult thing when someone has planted themselves as deeply as I have. And, I have been here for ten years now. I have lots of stuff. So the first thing I decided to start with was to get rid of my silver Honda that has been sitting in my driveway since my brother left something like two years ago. JESUS. Not only have I been paying insurance on it and keeping it legal for the last two years, but the thing won’t even feign to start and there is a huge hive of bees inside the hood. So that was the first thing I decided to get rid of. It became, in my head, the poignant, “I am moving to be with my boyfriend,” symbol of motion. Ironically. Get rid of a car to make yourself mobile. I called five places a couple weeks ago and no one returned my calls. As usual. Thursday I called another place and the guy said he would be here Friday afternoon to get the car. This was upsetting and motivating at the same time. You see, that car means a lot to me. Not only is the only thing (large scale, adult thing) I have ever paid for by myself in my entire life (and I don’t count this house because I still owe forty grand on it) but it was also my dream car. I decided I wanted a silver Honda Accord when I was fifteen. It was the car my friend Kelli’s parents drove and I loved Kelli’s parents. It was the car that I learned to drive a stick on. It was the nicest car I had ever seen. I wanted a silver Honda accord. And I got one, the same year as Kelli’s had been and it was silver. And a stick. It could have been the same damn car for all I know. And I drove that baby into the ground. I parked it with 280,000 miles on it and I don’t take good care of cars so you know that it was a good car. So it was my dream car and it was the first and only time a dream has ever come true for me (being with the Boy on a regular basis, when that happens, will be the second dream come true for me). So it is difficult for me to relinquish my title to that car and see it hauled away. But I will do it, because I have to. Yesterday I was ready. I was, once again, geared up for some monumental shift in the way my life goes.

And the guy did not show up.

Of course.

This frustrates me.

I am overwhelmed with what this entails, this needed mobility. This getting on with life. I am desperate to put all the pieces together right now. I am desperate to MOVE THE FUCK ON. More than anything, I just want to NOT be this far from the boy. I cannot handle this way of life any longer. It’s been almost two years now that we have been going like this and I can’t take it any more. There are the six or so weeks I spend missing him, the week I am on edge with impatience for our next visit and then a moment of us together when everything is pretty chaotic and we are basically living some crazy vacation like life that leads me to a week of needed recovery after we are separated again. I am tired of making an ass out of myself at airports around this country and that country when I have horrible tears streaming down my face and I am blubbering like a baby when I see him disappear through security, or when I, myself, disappear through security. I hate that. And, I am sick of not having any money. Back when I started this thing I had all sorts of money. And my job was perfect for the amount of money I needed to make. Now I can barely squeak by every month because I am still trying to pay for my two months off last year, and the laptop I bought for that trip, and everytime I get to a place where I can start socking money away, I leave or Boy comes here and seeing him is more important than money so I don’t work a lot when he is here and obviously I don’t work at all when I am there. So what I need to do, to solve this all…is take the next seven months to make as much money as I can, I need to sell everything I own, including this house, and I need to get there. But so IDEAL would be for him to move back to this country in September, so I can work. So I can once again sock away some money. PLEASE LET THAT HAPPEN.

I do believe I have written enough now. I need to get to work.


Get your own
 diary at! contact me older entries

previous - next

Get your own
 diary at! contact me older entries

about me - read my profile! read other Diar
yLand diaries! recommend my diary to a friend! Get
 your own fun + free diary at!