Peek, Peek

Oh, but a long time it has been. I have been preoccupied elsewhere and not really prepared to come back to this blog. But I wanted a break from what I have been up to, so here I am. I doubt anyone still reads here, so it's not a big thing, but the last few weeks have been tremendously busy.

I'm moving. And it's all I can do NOT to think it's backwards. I quit my job because my boss is a total cum dumpster (like that, Japan? *we have to practice her English any way we can*) and he never appreciated anything I did (his thankyous at Graduation -- a graduation that only happened because of me, 31 and E, no less -- consisted of the following phrase: There are too many people to thank for this afternoon, so please refer to the last page of the Graduation program. The program had fucking SIX NAMES on it. Just say them, you fat babboon!) and we didn't have the same goals for our students. Oh, and he didn't want to give me a living wage either...though he would drop $330 on 200 programs to get a quarter-sized blue circle on the front page rather than do it in black and white for $80. Anyway, I'll miss the kids, but he's a fucking giant thorn in my ass gone. Shame. I generally don't mind pain in the ass area. Grin.

So, no more job. And no more apartment. I loved this apartment, but part of not having the job was me agreeing to finish the second part of my education: get my MA/cred. And to do this, sigh, I have to live at home for a bit. I'm crossing my fingers it's only this summer, but we'll see. I want 31 to kick her lame-o little brother out of her swank digs so we can be roomies, but le sigh, it seems I am still waiting on Manhattan '07 for that. So I move out in two weeks to go back to my childhood bedroom/"guest room"...though, it's more like teenage bedroom. Ah, the memories. Grin.

And B and I are seperating. I don't know how to handle this. I know it's my fault and my doing, so I feel guilty feeling sad, even guiltier feeling angry. And now, we're sort of in this comfortably numb place where we make the most out of the time we're spending together. It is not part of me to ever stop loving him. I think he feels the same. I think it wouldn't be kicking us both in the nuts if we could though. I think we both wish we had never met sometimes. Losing can be worse than anything else.

And I can't dwell on that, so the other big thing is location. After nearly eight years in LA, I am going back up to where I was born and raised. NorCal, the East Bay. It all feels so backward. I even thought about myspace-ing to get in touch with my old friends. Why do I want to get in touch with them? I was happy to be mysteriously out of the loop. I was happy to have friends of consequence, rather than friends of convenience. And I'm going to give up that higher ground for what? I even thought that at my 10-year reunion, I would send a dirty hooker or a construction worker to be me. I like having disappeared. I like dropping off the edge of the planet sometimes.

As you all have seen. Well, as YOU have seen, Jerk. Thanks for keeping in touch with me. It means a lot to have persistant buddies.

Anyway, shit will be fine. I'm helping 31 throw a party at her daddy's house in a week and a half before I leave. We even got that Russian guy I used to have a crush on to commit to coming. Last night, when he was fucked up, he was giving me his number so I could give him party details and he was all, "You want to know how much of a geek I am?" (This is AFTER he told me he used to wear a fanny pack, liked death metal, almost got a tattoo of a rose with barbed wire for a stem, and sang the Ninth Symphony...damn, he's a fucking cool cat. And much younger than he sounds. Just odd. Like everyone who works where I worked.) And I'm like, "Yeah?" And he goes, "It's when the Turks (I think he said Turks. I had been drinking and he has a thick accent.) took Constantinople under...trailing off here because I am laughing..." I was like, "(His name here), we're going to have fun." It was a good night for goodbyes.

Anyway, no more forced update. Peace.