Shave and a Haircut
Let me see, what has happened since I was here last.
Job search trauma: Called a guy at the CLO about an internship there. I left my name and number on his voice mail. While I was in the shower I heard the phone ring and hoped that it was Mr. CLO Internship calling me back. Played the message and heard, “Hey baby. What are you doing here so early? Oh…hahahahaha. *click*” Ew. I *69'ed, ready to lay the smackdown on the moron who would dial incorrectly, leave a dumbass message and then not even apologize. But, lo and behold, it was Mr. CLO Internship's number. What to do? I decided to avoid any direct contact and emailed him yesterday. I played dumb and pretended that I had never heard back from him, assuming that he would have been embarrassed by his obvious mistake. But no, he insisted that he had called me back and had left a message on my answering machine. Now I'm not sure what to think…except that he's either a total retard or a pervert. Maybe both.
Father's nervous breakdown: Dad's also having job trauma. Due to an argument that got a little ugly with a co-worker, he's essentially fired. Since he's union he can fight it and perhaps get reinstated. But he's not sure if he should do that or just retire now. He'll get his pension no matter what so that's good. I went to his house the other day and he was shuffling around in these old ratty slippers, smoking cigarettes (which I had never actually seen him do before) and moaning about how his life was fucked. I felt bad for him, but I was furious with him more than anything else. I can't handle it when my parents get all “human” on me and make me realize that they can't always fix problems as they arise. It scares me. I kept pushing his slumping shoulders up and grabbing his saggy cheeks, telling him that everything would be alright. I wanted so badly for him to just snap out of it and go, “You're right! What was I so worried about?” My dad's “girlfriend” also stopped over but ran out the door when she realized I was there. That just made the whole afternoon that much stranger. I don't want to talk about this anymore.
Pulp: I talked to Mike Shanley about possibly getting tickets for the sold-out Ladysmith Black Mambazo show. I can get *one* (boo hoo) in exchange for writing a Live This Week about them. Of course, I am happy to do so. I should be working on it now (along with my revised memoir) but I just don't feel like it. Talking to Shanley was nice. We chatted for a bit about several things. He said that he misses me dearly and I hope that's true. I really liked working there. Sigh.
Aunt: She had to go to the hospital the other night with some ulcer perforation. She's okay. I'm glad.
It seems that life in general is turning some corner. I don't know how to describe it. Lots of people close to me have died. I guess that's the weirdest part. I have these moments of reflection that really piss me off. All of a sudden I think about past boyfriends, what I've done in college, shit like that. And I start to get upset about stuff and I have to remind myself that it doesn't matter anymore.
I should get back to my homework.
