I am going to go into a video game coma for a couple of weeks. See you guys then.
Metal Gear Solid 3 just came out.
Fuck'n A.
Asleep. Dreaming fitfully. Awaking every couple of seconds it seems like, gasping, hand over my heart. Laying down, looking at the back of M's head. Touching the back of his neck. Waiting to fall asleep. M wakes me every morning by kissing my neck. I'm a light sleeper. So is he. If I kiss his neck now he'll wake up and he's so darling when he's sleeping. Awake he is an angel. Asleep he is a slumbering dragon, radiating heat and darkness. And then suddenly I slip. I slip out of myself. It hasn't happened since I went on that supid astral projection trip two years ago. But here I am, half my soul sinking into the matress, a two inch dislocation from my waking body. I roll over, hoping this will slip me back in but I fall out completely and am sinking into the floor now underneath the bed. I'm not panicking. Yet. I remember that I'm supposed to do something, like think "up" or imagine myself as a ball of light, but I kind of don't want to. Sinking into the floor seems like a good idea right now, plus I don't want to get thrown back into my body just yet by making any sudden decisions.
The astral world is so pretty. Pretty in a very disturbing way. Lights and auras and shapes floating around. Really,it can be quite upsetting. Like the high pitched voices of an angel choir. Peircing, loud, exquisite and terrifying. But you know what? I'm tired. More than anything I'm just fucking tired so it's time to get back. Back to myself and my little tiny body completely invisible under my quilts. The will the concentration the wooshing sound and I'm back. Eye's open staring at M's neck. Except not. Because M is gone.
One of my best dog friends ever, Azaro, died this morning at 10am. He was in quite a bit of pain, but died without assistance. I will miss him. He was almost as big as I am and we'd wrestle and he'd play bite my arms until we were both completely worn out and I had red welts all over my arms. He was really nice and liked cats. A little too much sometimes and he would snuggle with the cats and they'd get sick of him and hiss at him and swat his nose.
I will miss him.
"Why do you always smell so good?"
"Because I'm made of poison."
SGNP said that he thinks, due to my recent posts, people are going to start thinking I'm fragile. He actually said "I'm worried that people will start to like think you're you know fragile or something." I'm not sure why that worries him.
So I yelled really loud "I AM FRAGILE! LIKE ICE CREAM!" and punched him really hard in the shoulder.
In case anyone thought I wasn't completely crazy, I cried today when my dude went to work. Because I was going to miss him. Jesus Christ.
And now I'm extorting money from him so I can go drinking with my girlfriends. Apparently this all comes out in the wash because I've been buying groceries and cooking dinner. At least that's what I've been telling myself. TO make myself feel better about asking for money.
I've flown into a thousand pieces, so I'm going to get back to the business of collecting myself back together.
Plus I'm wearing his jeans now. Which helps. Immensly
Old and Busted: 2MB of memory in Hotmail account
New Hotness: Email account magically shows 250MB of storage. No idea. I didn't pay for it sooo.... And I don't have any money in my account for them to steal sooo.... Magic! Like stealing cable only instead of actually going out there and putting the splitter on myself, little cable elves came and did it for me.
Yay email storage elves!
So Russel Crowe got into a fight with his own bodyguard and bit the guy. Apparently not very hard. But the thing about this story that is truly wonderful, is that in his statement Russell said how he undertands why he did it. Which is just charming. I mean I'm so GLAD that he understands his own motivations. That he understands why he himself does bad stuff. That he really gets it. It being Himself. The statement is even better if you read it in a Crocodile Dundee "That's not a knoif. Thees is a knoif." accent.
"It doesn't suproise may that Oi'm ovehlay senseetuhv t'gossup and speekulayshin and hahtuhlay seek of uthah poipul's puhceepshun's..."
(Trans: "It doesn't surprise me that I'm overly sensitive to gossip and speculation and heartily sick of other people's perceptions..." It's doesn't surprise me either Russ. Me either.)
I was recently accused of not being angry anymore. Which is just plain weird and I mostly ascribe it to the fact that I was hugging my dude and the guy who said it was pretty not sober.
Basically this is how it works. My anger and frustration at this stupid stupid incarnation is like a loud hum. If you're around it long enough, you just stop noticing it really and then you realize that while I'm basically an angry person, I'm also kind of happy, kind of nice, kind of fun, etc.
I have thrown anything for like a whole week, but I did have a little temper tantrum at a meeting yesterday and I did yell at two people in my living room yesterday morning. "EXCUSE ME I'M GOING TO SAY SOMETHING RIGHT NOW!" They talk a lot and will steamroll you unless you yell really loudly if you have something to say.
Headline of London's The Daily Mirror - "How can 59 million Americans be so stupid?"
Practice that's how. Lots and lots of practice.