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2004-11-18 - 9:12 a.m.
Okay, so I think I know who put garbage in my garbage can. I've been watching. It seems that the people that moved into the corner house have no garbage service. I've been watching for them to put out their garbage and so far NOTHING. I think they are evil people now. They seemed too cheery anyway. .... Yesterday before work I stopped at the gas station to buy cream (because we only have non dairy creamer and I won't drink that if you paid me and usually I just put milk in my coffee at work but I wanted a treat.) So there was this guy at the counter when I walked in, he was making the cashier rub off instant lottery tickets for him because he himself had "bad luck". I walk in and he looks me up and down and says, "How you doin' baby?" And I snap, "Fine." Then he asked if I was from around here and I said no. I paid for my cream and walked out and he was following behind yelling, "hey!" So I locked my doors and drove out and he FOLLOWED me. I had to drive around for twenty minutes before I was sure he was gone. .... I hate people. .... My Smudge cat was put on medication for his heart. Some beta blocker that I have to get from a pharmacy. I picked it up yesterday and there were fifteen pills. At first I was like...this is dumb, I have to give this to him every day for the rest of his life and the stupid doctor prescribes fifteen pills...that is stupid. But then I read that I only have to give him a quarter of a pill every day. But these pills are SO tiny anyway and I have no idea how I am going to split them into quarters. It almost seems pointless. I am actually wondering if it is pointless. Smudge HATES taking pills. He is terrible about it. Smudge is a cat who knows when you are going to give him a pill, even if you just kind of look at him and remember that he has to have a pill...he will run away. So imagine for the rest of his life now he will be under constant strain, every day, running away from me because he knows I am going to give him a pill. Talk about being bad for your heart. So I haven't given him a pill yet because I am still weighing the pros and cons of it. .... At the same time I got my prescription filled. My gynocologist prescribed me some monster dose of naproxen for my cramps. According to him I should start taking it about a week before my period and continue through my period. I don't like that. Especially since he didn't really explore WHY I was getting such bad cramps for the last two years. This is why I would rather have gone to a woman doctor. I think maybe she would have had more empathy and understanding in the matter. I am not just being a baby about this. I think there is seriously something wrong when someone has to take an ibuprofen every hour of the day for four days a month or else be racked with so much pain that she can do nothing else but sit down (laying down makes it worse) on the couch and groan. So I am going to go back in there and demand that they explore more. He said it could be endometriosis but he didn't check for that. Maybe because there is nothing they can do for that? I don't know, I will have to research. .... I watched Empire Records yesterday for the first time. I watched it because it always seems that everyone loves that movie. I was no totally impressed. It was kind of funny, and the guy who playes Lucas was hot and Liv Tyler was of course her wonderful, kind of whiney self and I love her, but the movie just seemed kind of boring really. I also watched Cheaper by the Dozen (because my little brother left it here) and I am amazed that Steve Martin can look exactly, exactly the same as he did when I was a kid. It's really something. Then I started watching Sylvia with Gwynth Paltrow as Sylvia Plath and I think that old Gwynth did a horrible job in that role. It seems that sometimes she gets this oddly bad english accent on certain words and she is playing an american. So that annoys me. Is that how you spell Gwynth? Anyway...this Sylvia Plath thing leads me to...
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I was telling Eric last night how funny it was because in the movie when Sylvia sits down to write something she ends up instead baking...when her husband comes home she has a counter full of cakes. That's funny to me because I do that, I will sit down to write and I will end up cooking instead. Cooking is the only thing in the world I have patience in. I can spend all day making some sauce but I sit down to write and within five minutes I am all antsy to get up. I suspect that is why Syliva baked. Because then she was focusing on something, concentrating, losing herself in something...like you are supposed to do when you are writing. I think it is two things, one, a survival method, because you know that you have to be doing something productive and concentrated and if you don't you are going to lose your mind. And two, I think that somewhere in her mind she must have thought that if she spent hours doing something concentrated and productive she would be able to quickly shift herself to her typewriter and write. Like pushing a car down a hill to start it when it won't start. You need momentum. So it's a terrible movie but I am getting all sorts of thoughts from it. I love Sylvia Plath's writing. Especially the Bell Jar. I said something to Eric last night about how I really admired her writing and how it was too bad she stuck her head in the oven and killed herself and he said he lost all respect for her because she killed herself. I don't agree. Number one, writing should stand alone, as it's own entity. Writing such as hers couldn't have occured anyway unless she was somehow mentally askew. The Bell Jar never would have been written unless Sylvia had tried numerous times to kill herself. And two, suicide to me is fucking sad. While I would never say I respect someone because they killed themself, I would also never say that I disrespect someone because they killed themself. I think the reason I liked the Bell Jar so much is because I'll bet that ninety five percent of people in this world have at one time thought about just ending it all. I know I have had that thought, on numerous occasions. (not that I could ever actually go through with it...but I have wished at times in my life that I could just end it because I was tired of this life, because everything seemed pointless and stupid and wrong and I just didn't want to go on anymore.) So when I was reading the Bell Jar it kind of opened up a part of me that I had kept secret, it gave me more compassion for my fellow humans, made me look at people a little different. Made me realize that everyone has demons in their eyes. I realized that I wasn't alone in desperate thoughts and so I think I became a better person because I had more understanding of the fact that we are all human. It made me realize that we all feel basically the same at our core. Now, Sylvia gave up and I don't understand what happens when you give up because my mind has never taken it that far. But I have felt that thin, thin cord of something in the mind just about to snap. There is a very fragile line between giving up and keeping going. I think it is terribly sad that her mind took it that far, she must have been suffering something that most of us will never understand. And in that way I could never disrespect her for her suicide, or anyone. It must be something really awful that you are feeling that would allow you to end your life. .... Anyway. I will finish watching Gwynth in her terrible role as Sylvia, and then I am going for a long, long walk and try to motivate myself to move. I know that I am totally sabataging this move at this point. I know that somewhere inside me I am trying to stay here until Spring. Because now that I am on to plan B (which is refinancing my mortgage so I can get enough money to pay off bills and finish this house and have some money for incidentals) I should be able to push it through fast enough so I can join Eric on his December 15th move in date (assuming the temperatures are okay for kitties to travel). But I am not returning calls from mortgage people. I am just putting it off. I don't know why I want to stay here until Spring. I never know why I do certain things until it is all over. Then the answer will appear. Maybe I am waiting until Spring because someone will buy this house in February and then I won't have to refinace...or maybe it is because December through February will be too cold for the cats to fly and I will end up in some state of total impatience (because once I set my mind to something it better happen or I go insane)...I don't know why I am procratinating...it isn't because I don't want to move ( I DON'T want to move but that isn't the reason) because more than anything else in the world I need to be with that boy. I can't take this much longer. I can't take the shut down that occurs in me when we are seperated. I can't even look at a picture of him or watch a movie where there is some loving, happy couple because I get sick pulling tugging pains in my belly. I have to shut myself down or I will die from missing him. Anyway...so that isn't the reason. I also wonder if the reason for my procrastination has something to do with my desire for him to settle in there, for me to know that it is going to be a long term job. Imagine if I got there and six months later they send him home? That would terrible. I would have to repack everything, subject the cats to more stress, move back here with nothing. At least after a couple years there I will have accomplished something I won't be returning with nothing. I will have learned a language, perhaps learned more (I am considering taking courses in nutrition) and will have gotten used to myself as non-waitress Whisper. I will be something else. I will no longer be waitress. So I want to be sure before I leave this life behind, that I am not going to be sent back right away. .... But first...before long walks and movies...I need to go to the dentist to get a filling replaced. I am kind of excited because I get this filling replaced with that white filling stuff. That will be exciting. |
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