September 30, 1999

I Win! (I Think)

I got this in my email a couple of hours ago. At first it made me mad. Then it made me laugh. While I'm not thrilled to have gotten such an unpleasant note from someone I've never met, it delights me to no end that, going by the end of the note, this is someone that I will never have to meet. So, with no further adieu, and in all her misspelled and ungrammatical glory, I give you... Wednesday:


I am the Wednesday you've undoubtedly heard so much about. I am writing to you in response to an E-mail I recieved [sic] yesterday stating your intentions to have me jailed upon my attempt to stay with my boyfriend.

I have a few questions for you, which you may or may not be mature enough to respond to. First, what on earth possesses you to have such animosity towards someone you've never met? I realize that you must feel awful silly having let go of a treasure like Hollingsworth, and sad that he is with another. But these things take place in reality, and we all must deal with them. So should you.

Second, are you aware that a personal protection order is what people get when they fear imminent danger of a person who has treatened, [sic] or intends harm to you? It is for battered or stalked women mostly. The very idea that I would plan a two week stay at the place you share with Hworth in order to injure you is some kind of paranoid fantasy. Any perceived threat has been totally fabricated by you. And bogus reports such as the one you "fully intend" to implement are a large part of the reason that people in real danger have difficulty finding help. Again, its [sic] called reality, and you may wish to look into it.

Similarly, a false report of trespassing when I am welcomed in a domicile by a lease holder is not only abhorrent, but enough to have you arrested. Filing a false police report is a misdemenor [sic], as it wates [sic] police time and keeps them from dealing with actual crime. Not to mention that I would consider such a thing harassment, and could legally seek a protection order against YOU. I am not the type to use the police to handle things that keep me from getting my way but then, I'm an adult with a grip on reality.

And as a point of reference, your buildings [sic] managemnt [sic] was already informed of my intentions to stay to [sic] the place you share. They were fine with it. I'm sure I don't need to tell you that Hworth is not much of a rule breaker, just a sweet guy who didn't want your indescisivness [sic] about the where's [sic] and when's [sic] of your moving to leave me with nowhere to go.

I'd like to close by saying that even thought [sic] I could fully, and even vengefully circumvent your ridiculous attempts to get your snotty little way, that I will not set foot in your home. Your uninvited hostility, combined with your petty, mean spirited, immature manner of conducting yourself would no doubt turn my stomach if I ever had to meet it face to face. Obviously you've been spoiled by living for so long with a wonderful man concerned primarily with your happiness. Good luck in the real world sister, you're going to need... [sic]


And that, dear reader, seems to be that. Of course, she's breaking my heart by telling me she doesn't want to live with me, but, that's just another reality that I fear I shall have to cope with. I hope I can handle it. While I didn't answer her directly, I did forward the message to Hollingsworth with the following message: "I have only one question regarding this: does this mean she's not moving in? Please let me know, so I can plan accordingly."

I realize it may seem petty to post my emails here, and post hers here as well. I admit, I do feel pretty petty right now. I'm still more than a bit hurt about all this, but it's getting easier and easier to dismiss. All I can do now is just shake my head at the situation, and at how stupid it's all gotten.

Of course, if she does still end up coming to my place, this will be most unpleasant. So much so that I may end up staying elsewhere while I prepare to move. I'll be sure to keep you all posted.

Posted by Lisa at 01:52 PM | Comments (0)

September 29, 1999


Well, I'm not as upset as I was last night. I've pretty much resigned myself to living with two other people, at least until I get my situation worked out. It looks like I might be able to move as early as next week. Of course, whether or not my stuff will be ready to move by then is an entirely different matter. I have wonderful intentions though. I got up at 8 am this morning to start cleaning and packing... and then ended up sitting around half-asleep for two hours until I had to get ready for work. Like I said, my intentions were good.

I'm so tired. Even though I'm used to this work schedule, and I like it, it's hard for me to get home from work and actually start doing things, like packing, cleaning, etc. I'm not sure why, it's like my brain insists that doing housework after 8 pm is just wrong, or something. I need to get over that. Of course, the fact that I've been staying at work until 9 or 9:30 to avoid Hollingsworth at home doesn't help matters any. Tonight I won't do that, I think. Tonight I'll go home right after work and get some things done.

I will, I will, I will. I have to!

No further drama on the Hollingsworth/Wednesday front, thank heavens. My mom keeps asking for Hollingsworth's email address, and I keep not giving it to her. While I definitely appreciate the support I'm getting from my family and friends, I'm really uncomfortable with the idea of anyone else getting involved in any direct confrontation with him, in any way. Of course, since my mom is planning on helping me move, I have a feeling that might be unavoidable. In fact, come to think of it, that might be part of the reason my mom's helping me move. *grin* I know she's kinda spoiling for a fight on my behalf.

I will say this much. My resolution to remain single seems a lot easier to keep right about now. I have almost no desire to be in any sort of serious relationship beyond friendship right now. I want to flirt, yes. I definitely wouldn't mind having someone to cuddle with. But anything more serious? No way. And it'll be a cold day in hell before I live with a boyfriend again. (Then again, I said that about marriage too, and I've kinda reconsidered that stance.)

I noticed when I was driving to work today that the colors have started changing on the trees. It hit me with an almost physical force: fall is here. When I saw the colors, I had a chain of physical and emotional responses. Seeing the red and orange and yellow, I started to smell leaf smoke. That smell triggers so many different feelings. It's a bittersweet smell for me, full of changes and pain and sadness and joy. It's a complex smell, because fall is a very complex time of year. All of the major relationships I've been in as an adult had their beginnings and endings in the fall. For several years running, I was guaranteed to have at least one depressive episode during the fall. I'm more lethargic in the fall. I think somehow my body is trying to start hibernating, or something. And now fall is here. And as per usual, my life is sort of upside down. Usually things get better by Samhain, so if I can just hang in there for one more month.

Then again, once I get moved, things are bound to start getting better.

Posted by Lisa at 01:47 PM | Comments (0)

September 28, 1999

I Lose

What a remarkable roller-coaster of a day.

I started the process of applying to buy Sheri's mobile home today. My mom agreed to co-sign if I need it. What I may end up doing instead is renting it from Sheri for a little bit to give me time to come up with a down payment and to make sure this is what I want to do. If the mobile home park agrees to that. If they don't, then I try to buy it. If that falls through, I heard from the apartment complex I applied to today, and I was accepted there. So no matter what, I have a place to live. I should know by the end of the week where that place is.

I went out to look at the mobile home today (funny how I'm resisting calling it a 'trailer') and to get the application package from the park. I couldn't go in the trailer (there, I did it), and won't be able to until Friday or so. The park is really nice though, and so is my potential yard. The biggest problem, I think, is that it doubles my commute to work. I'm about 15 miles from work now, if I move into the trailer it'll be 30. That's not outrageous or anything, but it's something to think about.

That was the good part of my day.

My options for dealing with Hollingsworth and Wednesday have all but vanished. According to the apartment complex, he can keep her there for up to two weeks legally. The bastard won't tell me her last name, so I have no way of getting a personal protection order against her. When he moves her in, my option is pretty much to just call the police, and even that would just be as a way to cause trouble. The police wouldn't actually do anything probably, except tell me to go somewhere else if I was so bothered. So once again, I'm stuck. My best option right now is to get the hell out as soon as I possibly can. And hope that Max bites her or pisses on her in the meantime. I wonder if I can train him to do that. I've got a few days still.

I'm trying not to stress about this. I just want to scream and cry and rage, but that seems useless. What would it accomplish? Even if I do, I'm still going to end up with a strange woman living in my apartment come this Friday. Somehow I knew it would come to this. Seems like the times when I do have enough determination to fight, there's nothing I can do. So whatever. It's easier to just not care. And people wonder why I spend so much time acting like a doormat. Get walked over enough times and you start to believe it. Right now I'm trying not to believe it, I really am. I just... I hurt. I think most of the hurt comes from anger though. I don't know what to do with it all. I don't know how to make it go away. I don't know how to resolve it. I'm afraid that I'm stuffing it down, where it will fester. All I really want to do is get in Hollingsworth's face and scream about how much I hate him.

Except that I don't hate him. Life would be much easier if I did. I understand what he's trying to do. What bothers me is that he's doing this, knowing how upset it makes me, how much it hurts me. He knows how I feel about it and he doesn't care.

And part of me feels stupid for all my pronouncements. I should have known that for all my yelling and fussing I was still going to end up living with Wednesday. I feel like the only thing there is for me to do now is try and move out as quickly as I can, and to spend as little time at home as possible in the meantime.

This is why I don't bother getting angry and fighting for something. It never makes a difference.

Posted by Lisa at 07:16 PM | Comments (0)

September 27, 1999

Relaxation & Uncertainty

Avoiding work once again, and trying to figure out what's going on in my life.

First though, I had a great weekend. I wrote a journal entry by hand late Friday / early Saturday, which I of course left at home, so I'll have to code it and put it up tomorrow. Dawn and Jason, no matter where they're living, always have the most relaxing house. I'm not sure what it is. Something about the vibe the two of them put off, or something. I was utterly freaked out Friday night, but within an hour of being in their apartment, I was calmer by far. It's carried over. Even though I don't know for sure where I'm going to be living, and even though I haven't started cleaning or packing yet, I'm okay. Everything's going to work out.

I wrote about Friday in the missing entry, so I'll save that. Saturday and Sunday were very lazy days. I learned how to paint miniature figures for a game Jason plays. And I picked up cross-stitching again after several years. And we watched 6.2 movies. The .2 was "You've Got Mail", which we turned off in disgust. It was incredibly annoying. The other ones we watched (in order of how much I enjoyed them) were "Singing in the Rain", "The Frighteners", "Little Shop of Horrors", "Analyze This", "The Running Man", "The Craft". Which is not to say that I hated "The Craft", although it was pretty lame in several parts. "Singing in the Rain" will always be one of my favorites. I love Gene Kelly movies. "The Frighteners" was a pleasant surprise. Very pleasant. It was a very fun movie. It gave me several ideas for some possible role-playing plot and scene ideas. I hadn't seen "Little Shop of Horrors" in years. The soundtrack alone is so much fun. It's been added to the list of CDs I want -- a list that's growing very large. "Analyze This" was essentially Billy Crystal and Robert DeNiro being themselves, but it was fairly humorous to watch. "The Running Man" wasn't bad, but the writers were trying too hard to give Arnold a funny line each time he killed somebody. It was your basic 'blow stuff up' movie, with some interesting ideas about the media and the public thrown in almost as a side effect. "The Craft"... well... I was entertained. If nothing else, the four actresses were nice to look at, and I kinda thought Neve Campbell did a good job at being shy. The magical ideas in it were crap, but I expected as much. Like I told Dawn and Jason, "This is not a movie about witchcraft. This is a movie about four disturbed teenage girls who are trying to reclaim some of their power." They just choose a really unwise way to do it.

Beyond that, I painted seven piggies. Er, miniature boars, that is. Little figures that will eventually end up with a goblin glued to their back so they can ride off into a pretend battle. I'm more artistic than I realized, which is kinda cool. And I can't believe that after years and years I've started doing counted cross-stitch again. I used to do it all the time. It was sort of a cool thing to do when I was in college at David Lipscomb. Of course, it was nice and quiet and very feminine, after all -- which could be why I quit doing it for so long. Well, that and it was also a big SCA thing, and I've gotten away from that too.

I quite simply can't wait to get settled in my new place. I'm scared, but I'm excited (okay, how many times have I said that?). Actually, for right now, I'd be happy to figure out where my new place is. My two options are the apartment complex I originally was looking at, and as it turns out, Sheri still is trying to sell her mobile home not far from here. It's a nice place, and the lot rent + house payment would be about what I would be paying for rent. The idea of owning a place scares me to death. It's a responsibility I'm not sure I want, although I know it would be good for me. I think what scares me the most is the idea of failing miserably and making a mess of the place. What do I know from house maintenance? Or lawn maintenance? What do I know from being a grown-up? I'm not a grown-up yet!

And yet I hear Brand taunting me again, "How old are you now, Lisa?" Yeah yeah, I'm twenty-freaking-seven years old and I'm irresponsible and I need to change. I'm just so afraid of trying to change AGAIN (it's not like I haven't tried before) and failing AGAIN. Or even worse, I'm afraid of actually changing and somehow losing the parts of me I really like to the gods of adulthood.

Afraid of failure, more afraid of success. Story of my life.

Posted by Lisa at 01:49 PM | Comments (0)

September 25, 1999

Greetings From Lansing

I love my friends. I have to say that, first and foremost. I have to -- they'll kick my butt otherwise. I got here about three hours ago. During that time I've ranted and giggled and relaxed. I feel much better overall. Currently I'm sort of watching Dawn play Diablo on the Playstation, and listening to Jason type on the computer. Heh. He's working on his character application for Something Wicked This Way Comes. I knew I'd get somebody sucked in. More Changeling addicts, more!

I had a realization driving in tonight. It's about an hour drive, so I had time to think. As I said in the drive-thru at McDonald's, I thought, "At least this time I have somewhere to run." At first that thought puzzled me, then I got it. The situation with Hollingsworth is triggering a lot of things from my marriage to Gary. There were so many times when Gary and I would fight (never physically -- I have never been physically abused by anyone) and he would storm out, and I would wish I had someone to go to. I didn't. The last two years of our marriage I was almost totally isolated. I was in a small town in the middle of nowhere where I didn't anyone. Gary was a student and had friends there. I had no one close. Now, when something comes up, good or bad, there are people all around me, virtually and in reality. That's a very comforting thought, even if it did make me cry.

Although to be honest, that wasn't the only reason. All of this has made me remember how helpless and hurt I felt living with Gary. Trapped, alone, not sure I was strong enough to do what I needed to do for me. With the bitchy stance I've taken with Hollingsworth, a part of me is really dreading the confrontation. Deep down I'm not sure I have it in me to be as bitchy in a full-fledged confrontation as I am in email or on ICQ. The situation may come to that, and I'm not sure I'm ready, as much as I want to be.

I feel helpless to control this situation, and that's part of what's pissing me off.

Except right now I'm not pissed off. Right now I'm basking in the warm relaxing aura of this house. This was a very good decision.

Posted by Lisa at 02:21 AM | Comments (0)

September 24, 1999


Email sent this evening.


I've been doing a lot of thinking about the situation with Wednesday. I'm having a difficult time finding the words to express just how angry this entire situation is making me. I am trying to find a place to move to as quickly as possible. If it turns out that I can leave the townhouse before the end of October, you're more than welcome to move anyone in there -- once I'm gone. While I'm still there, however, no one else is welcome.

I didn't want to have to reach this point, but I have. If you choose to try and move Wednesday into our apartment, against my explicit wishes, I have several options, which I fully intend to exercise:

1. I go to the probate court and take out a personal protection order against Wednesday. After speaking to the Pittsfield Township Police, this was their recommendation. As what you are attempting to do with Wednesday (move someone in who is not on the lease) is illegal, and it will be detrimental to me (i.e., I could get evicted), the law is very much on my side. If she comes near me and I have this order she will be taken to jail, no question.

2. If that fails, and Wednesday still shows up in our house, I simply call the Pittsfield Township Police once again to report a tresspasser. Legally true or not, I will do it.

3. As a last resort, I will call Golfside Lake myself and report that the lease is being broken. You can make noises all you want about how she's only a 'guest' but we both know the real truth, and I have various ICQ messages that prove your real intent here.

Think long and hard about this. I am not caving in on this issue, and I will fight as hard as I have to. I don't want to make anyone's life miserable, but I am in no way obligated to open my home to a complete stranger just because you're trying to play someone's savior.


I'm getting the hell out of Dodge this weekend. Dawn and Jason, on hearing the situation, started agitating for me to come visit them this weekend, so after uploading this, I'll be heading out to their house. I'm stressed and I'm more than a bit tired. I hate being such a bitch. I hate being pushed into being such a bitch.
Posted by Lisa at 09:15 PM | Comments (0)

September 23, 1999

Straw + Camel's Back

Yes, it's true. Here's me, playing around with design again. Drop me a note to let me know what you think of this one. I was bored and irritated this afternoon and decided to play. I wasn't irritated until Hollingsworth got in touch with me again. And then irritation slowly turned into outright rage. So... if you're not @set=RANT_OK (for you MUSH coders out there), you might want to skip this entry. Also, if you're Sheri or my mom, you might want to think about it as well. I'd hate to see either of you arrested for murder. ;)

And just because I feel like being even more of a shit, you're getting another ICQ conversation in full:

H: Been doing the math, and I don't qualify for the apartment on my own, so Wednesday will have to be on the lease with me. But, if we get denied or [our apartment complex] won't let me be on two leases at once, she's going to have to stay with me until you and I can buy out the lease or she and I can find a place that says OK. She's got to be out of her place by 10-1.
Me: "She's going to have to stay with me"? I'm sorry. That's unacceptable to me, considering that staying with you means staying with me.
H: Sorry. It can't be helped. I'm already looking into other places. [Apartment complex] says they'll have something available 11-1. That's pretty far away, so I'm also gonna ask this place called [name]. I'm trying.
Me: Yes, it can be helped. My name is on our lease, Hollingsworth. She is not welcome to move in. For any length of time.
Me: Furthermore, I just checked with [our apartment complex] myself. If they find someone over 18 living in an apartment who is not on the lease, they can and will evict us.
H: Certainly nothing wrong with having a guest, right?
Me: A guest does not stay for a month with all her stuff.
Me: You're not listening to me. Wednesday moving in with us is not an option. You have to find something else.
H: You're not listening to ME. There's no debate here. Feel free to argue all you want, but it won't change anything.
At this point, Lisa gets so astoundingly pissed off and shocked that she spends several moments staring at the computer screen and cussing. And ranting at co-workers. At some point along here, I called Brand to fill him in on the drama. I quite honestly was so angry I couldn't think of what to say.
Me: You want to get us evicted? You can check with [the complex] yourself. I spoke to Pam.
H: They can't evict us for her staying for a few days. They'd have to evict every family member tha tever came to stay with their brother/sister/parents.
Me: Someone isn't a guest if half the household doesn't want them there.

So here's me, studying housing laws to see how to keep this girl out of my apartment. If she shows up with her things at my house, I will call the cops. God knows I don't want this to be ugly. I really don't want this to be ugly. But I spend too much time giving in on crap and being 'nice' (check the link to Pamie above -- that's how I am too). I feel a little like Picard doing his rant in Star Trek: First Contact: "They invade our space, and we fall back. They assimilate entire worlds, and we fall back. Not again. The line must be drawn HERE."

I hate conflict. I hate confrontation. I have I mentioned how much I hate both of those things? That's why I'm prone to give in. But not this time. I'm not going to be nice when 'being nice' means having a total stranger living in my house and having to deal with my ex-boyfriend having a new girlfriend right in front of my nose. I'm still dealing with him being my ex. No way in hell I'm putting myself through that, for a month, a week, hell, not even hours. I'm done. I'll deal with the queasy 'confrontation stomach'. I'll deal with being angry. I'll deal with whatever comes here.

"The line must be drawn HERE."

Posted by Lisa at 08:03 PM | Comments (1)

September 22, 1999

Good Evening, Bite Me!

First off, let me just point something out. You might note, that despite Brand and his eloquent criticism of T.S. Eliot as a "leading angst magician", I have once again quoted Mr. Eliot's poetry on my web page. Astute readers might also notice that the link back to the full text of the poem goes straight to a web page that is part of a site known as Nuada's Dreamrealm. The owner of the site is none other than (imagine that!) Brand himself. Furthermore, Mr. Pro Wrestling is solely responsible for getting me started reading Mr. Eliot's poetry, proclaiming him one of the few poetic geniuses of the twentieth century. Ahem. ;)

Now, a few responses from yesterday's guest entry.

From James: "Remind me, next time I see Brand, to tell him what a goon he is."

From a co-worker, Eric: "Assuming that pro wrestling does indeed unify the people in a manner similar to ancient mythology, the question still remains: do we want these people unified?" [Ok, that's a paraphrase.]

Ironically, I think I got a bigger response from readers than I ever have before. Oh sure... you don't talk back to me. ;) There was also, allegedly, a response from the now infamous Moyra T, wondering what sort of illicit substances yesterday's author was consuming before writing. But, as that message was only hearsay, I didn't want to include it.

Today has been quite the day. Everyone around me seems to have had a rotten day, while I was Miss Productive. I finished my projects in record time, finished a short story / character history, did one of my critiques for Critters, and now I'm writing a journal entry. Yay me. However, now that it's after 5 pm, things are going downhill. There's a big company function tonight, most of the company is going on a group trip to a Tigers game. Which means most of the people who are supposed to be here right now working... aren't. Which means I'm getting more calls than I should be. But... I'll survive.

And then again, this might turn out to be another night where I resist the urge to answer the phones (cheerily, of course), "[Company name], bite me!"

A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.

Then again, tonight is the full moon/fall equinox ritual for Helix. I'm having some seriously mixed feelings about all this. I had originally volunteered to help organize and lead this ritual, with a partner. But signals got crossed, and we didn't have a chance to get together, and I feel like my partner did all the work on this. I mean, I came up with a few ideas, but that's it. The end result? I feel kinda guilty and don't really want to go at all. No one's said anything really, but... I just feel bad. I'll probably go, because I'll feel more guilty for skipping.

Well, there is a positive side to everything I suppose, and tonight the positive side is that the company ordered us dinner: pita sandwiches, wonderful salads, pizza and (ooh baby) brownies. I have a particular weakness for the brownies this particular deli makes. Chocolate can solve everything. I feel better just smelling the dark, sweet fudgy delight just sitting across my desk staring at me. It's calling my name, but I'm going to put off answering as long as possible. It'll just be better that way, you understand. (And some people think there's no connection between food and sex. Ha!)

Positive side number two! The Banal One has left the building! Yes, against all known probability, TBO, who gets off work at 5pm, actually left before I did (and I get off at 8pm).

I might survive the rest of this night after all.

Posted by Lisa at 04:44 PM | Comments (0)

September 21, 1999


Well, I thought I really would like to have one of my friends do a guest entry for my journal. After all, Scott's wife has written some neat entries for his journal, and a few other journalers I know had some neat results, so why not me?

I learned to be careful what you wish for. *grin* Today's entry comes from the often discussed Brand, who demonstrates what happens when genius, a liberal arts education, and a truly warped mind combine. By the way, he also wrote the poem over on the sidebar. And forced me to put it up here. ;)

Brand Well, Lisa asked me some time ago if I would do a little guest spot for her. I agreed, stupid fool that I am. She was delighted, silly fool that she is.

So as I lay unable to sleep I decided that I might as well get it over with, and write this damn thing. I cast the net of my mind far and wide for a topic, a topic that would delight, entertain, and inform. I came up with the perfect solution, if I do say so myself. Pro Wrestling.

I don't know how many of you have noticed Lisa's infatuation with the meandering poetics of that hack T.S. Eliot, but I found it unavoidable. Eliot, you see, is popular for one primary reason -- he is the leading angst magician and cultural elitist in the world. (Yes, I know he's dead. It just shows the extent of his angsting that he is still top dog, even in the grave). Eliot liked to go on and on at great length about how none of us had any common ritual or mythology anymore, about how the cohesion of society was breaking down into a unreal haze of alienation, isolation, and frustration. Well, not to deny him his ations, but it just doesn't work that way. Society is as stable as it's ever been, and it's all thanks to Pro Wrestling.

I hear you scoff. Well scoff away, for I shall now prove my point. Pro Wrestling, you see, is the mythic ritual of the modern age. It succeeds in giving us a common point whereby we can all feel united in group sympathies, one with each other and with the Olympians who perform upon the canvas stage. Have you ever been to a live Pro Wrestling show? Have you heard the thunder of the crowd, all calling out the ritual phrases with one voice? For a moment in time all the separation, all the walls built up by the individualization of the human as subject mentality, are torn down in the raucous calling of human chaos.

When you sit with 35,000 other human beings, none of whom you've ever seen before or will likely see again, and as one voice call out the invocation for the God of War (GOLD-berg, GOLD-berg), you know that you are not so different, so separate after all. When you all scream, "Rudy Poo Candy Ass" with The Rock, you all become one in the spirit of the fray. This, my friends, is connection. This is what it means to have the mythic connection of the elder days.

Now I know at this point you will be thinking, "You little twit, the myths of the old times were rich cultural tapestries, and Pro Wrestling is just shoddy pop culture junk." Well, the fact that you say that just shows your own culture biases. First off, the myths of ancient Greece, when you look at them, are mostly shockingly violent, egotistical, and borderline racist. What they did was not give people a deep understanding of how Athena was cooler than Aphrodite, what they did was make people feel a part of the same world, the same body politic. In ancient Greece religion was not considered a personal thing, it didn't matter if you believed or not. Religion had one purpose, to bind the people together as one. Wrestling does the same. And as for it being pop culture trash - well of course it is. It has to be able to reach everyone, if it is going to help bring everyone together. Only the elitist drive of pseudo intellectual America bourgeois society makes us look down our noses at things everyone can enjoy. Let's face it, we aren't all geniuses, and there is no way we are going to connect to each other through "Catcher in the Rye."

So, once we get over our notions of the innately epic nature of old mythic structures, and get the ivory tower out our bums, we can start looking at Pro Wrestling for what it truly is -- the bloody, chaotic salvation of our civilization.

So, to all of you lost in existential quandaries, brooding on the hopelessness of modern society and the inevitable collapse of all things, I have one thing to say, one saving Mantra that will show you the way.

Savior of Modern Society?

GOLD-berg, GOLD-berg, GOLD-berg, GOLD-berg, GOLD-berg, GOLD-berg, GOLD-berg, GOLD-berg.

Yes, several of my friends are like this. Yes, I'm afraid. Questions, comments, psychological evaluations can all be sent directly to Brand, although feel free to send me a copy too. ;)

Posted by Lisa at 04:05 PM | Comments (0)

September 20, 1999

Work / Soul / Critters

Not sure what I wanted to say today, I just felt like writing. This weekend was a very quiet, very stay-at-home weekend. I'm fighting the urge to go into seclusion. It's not that I'm upset or anything, I'm just tired a lot. I think it has to do with the changing of the seasons. Fall's my favorite time of year, but it's usually the hardest for me as well. I've never quite figured out why. was down all weekend, which means that most of the games I play on were down as well. So I didn't get to play all my nifty new (well sort of new) characters over on Something Wicked This Way Comes. I didn't really write about it at the time, but things seriously blew up over on Emerald Dreams, and I am no longer working as volunteer staff there anymore. I'm really not playing there much anymore either. Sad, but it happens. I still have a place to play most of the characters I really enjoy, so it's all good. Or rather, I have a place to play them when the machine they run on is up and operational.

~ ~ ~

Bit of an outrage today at work. I'm still seriously bothered by it, but unsure what (if anything) to do about it. Two of my co-workers are good friends. One is married, one is not. They are of opposite genders. They also have personal beliefs that are distinctly different from the extremely Christian viewpoint of most of this company's upper management. Their manager (and mine) is very openly Christian -- which I have no problem with. He and my single friend have somewhat of a personal relationship as well. However, apparently at some point the manager approached said friend on the subject of the friendship with the married friend saying, "Well, so-and-so is married, and with the relationship the two of you have, I'm concerned about your soul."

Now... these are my friends. I don't ask what sort of relationship they have. It's none of my business. Who the hell is my manager to make the assumption that because a male and a female are friends and spend time together that something is automatically 'wrong'? Furthermore, what right does a supervisor have to approach one of the people working under him about their personal life? I know this really has nothing to do with me. My beliefs weren't questioned, my lifestyle wasn't called on the carpet. This time. That's what bothers me. If this sort of thing is seen as 'okay', where does it stop?

Where's the line between personal and business relationships? Is it okay to say something like that to someone who works under you, if you're acquaintances outside of work? I honestly don't know what to think, except that my gut reaction is that my manager's actions were just utterly and totally out of bounds.

~ ~ ~

I'm a little nervous this week. One of my short stories is coming up for critiquing at Critters, a sci-fi / fantasy / horror writer's critique group. This is the first time I've ever asked anyone who didn't know me to read something I wrote -- well okay, other than the three editors I've sent stories to. That's a little different though. The story will go out to people on Wednesday, I should start hearing back any time within that week. I hope. Or do I? I know I think I wrote something wonderful, but what if they don't?

I suppose it wouldn't ultimately change the fact that I'm proud of this story, but at the same time, the point is to have these total strangers (EEP!) objectively evaluate my work and try and show me where they think I can improve. The question is, can I objectively listen to what they have to say without losing the essential pride I have in what I accomplished?

Stay tuned, friends and neighbors.. the answer to come on Wednesday...

Posted by Lisa at 04:05 PM | Comments (0)

September 17, 1999

Natural Me

Well, this has certainly been an interesting week. Wednesday was truly beyond sucky. After going home from work, I pretty much lost it. I can honestly say I came as close as I have to a real depressive episode as I have in two and a half years. I was tired of fighting and tired of keeping myself afloat. Fortunately, there were a couple of people around to help. After a very long, very hard cry, and after a phone conversation that was at times heartfelt and at other times silly, I felt much better. Thursday was pretty bleah, mostly because of work.

Today, though. Today has been wonderful. I got to work about an hour early to catch up on some things, and was extremely productive this morning. Even better, while I was working on that deadly dull data entry, I borrowed some headphones and listened to some CDs. Or... a CD. Oh my. Disc 1 of my co-worker Eric's Aretha Franklin box set. Now... I've listened to her before. I don't know if it's my current frame of mind, or just the effect of listening to a whole CD's worth of her, but... I'm hooked. I already knew I really liked some of her songs, like "Respect" and "Natural Woman", but... especially for the latter of the two, I found myself having an actual physical reaction to the music. Well, aside from the fact that I can't sit still listening to this. Can't. No way. And I can't just tap my foot either. If I'm not paying attention, I find myself seriously getting down in my cubicle. This is not necessarily a bad thing, but yesterday Jo and I were getting dirty looks from the executives for belting out "Respect". Then again, that's not necessarily a bad thing either.

It's just odd though. "Natural Woman" is playing right now. I can feel it turning over in my stomach, tickling, almost. The chorus -- "You make me feel, you make me feel, you make me feel like a natural woman..." -- starts out at the base of my skull and dances down my spine as the music descends. Does that sound weird? I've had music that gave me goosebumps before, but this is something new. I can hardly stand to sit here and not sing along.

How does it make me feel emotionally? Hard to say. There's this sort of joy to the song, not stand up and shout joy, it's quieter than that. Part of me listened to the words and wished I had someone to make me feel that way. Then again, following right on the heels of that was the thought, "Why can't you make yourself feel that way?" Good question. So many of the songs on this CD are about how this man or that man has made her feel so bad or so good... and I usually look at things that way. I want to take that power back for myself. Giving someone the power to make you feel this way or that way is such a huge thing... and I give it to people too easily. Right now the only person who should have that power is me.

When my soul was in the lost and found
You came along to claim it
I didn't know just what was wrong with me
Till your kiss helped me name it
Now I'm no longer doubtful of what I'm living for
Cause if I make you happy I don't need to feel more

Cause you make me feel
You make me feel
You make me feel like
A natural woman

I think I'll try and keep up with my own claim checks there. For now.
Posted by Lisa at 02:58 PM | Comments (0)

September 15, 1999

Rants All Around

My mother is not supposed to know me that well, damn it. She called about half an hour ago and said I sounded down. I told her I wasn't, although she knew better, just because it isn't anything I can explain. It's just funky mood swings and unpleasant realizations. Nothing that talking will solve, nothing that telling people about will solve. (Very funny, Lisa. So why are you writing about it? Good question.)

Letting go is not an action. Letting go is a process. It's a process I suck at. I think I suck at it partly because I keep forgetting that it's a process and not at action. I 'let go' of an action or a feeling or a thought or a habit and always without fail think that I'm done with it. And then each time, when I stumble back over the same thought or feeling or habit, I get the same dumb look on my face, wondering 'How'd I end up back here again? I thought I was over this!'

So the process starts all over again. And I end up having the same dumb thoughts about myself that aren't true and I know they aren't true, but I have them anyway. I know life is a constant cycle, but there's a difference between a cycle and a vicious circle.

5:31 pm

Hollingsworth wants to know if his future roommate can live with us for the month of October. I just get SO many bad feelings about that. Especially if it ends up being his girlfriend. There's no way in hell I'm living with that. And if that is what he's asking me, I'm going to beat him over the head. Please God, tell me he's not that insensitive. Part of me is really afraid that he is. (For the record, I'm talking to him currently via ICQ. Waiting for a response to "So who is this person you want to live with us?")

If all goes well, it would probably be for less than a month, but still... I don't think I need that sort of stress. Really. Living with him is hard enough right now, much less living with a total stranger.

Damn ICQ anyway. Apparently Hollingsworth got booted before he could answer me. That's okay. I know what my answer will be. Absolutely not. I'm tempted, for money reasons, but there's no way I want to live with someone I don't know while I'm busy trying to get myself moved.

There. I've had my rant for the day and I feel much better.

~ ~ ~

One would think, looking over my journal entries, that I spend a great deal of time pissed off or depressed. I honestly don't. Writing comes easier to me when I'm upset. Well, journal writing does, anyway. With a few exceptions, I actually think I'm pretty happy most of the time. I'm known around work as being about the easiest person to make laugh ever. I get the giggles a lot. I'm renowned for getting the giggles while talking to a customer and having to gasp out "Please hold!" before collapsing into a breathless pile. Sometimes I don't even make it that far and the poor person just gets put on hold.

I laugh a lot. I smile a lot. I read things that make me grin and I want to share them. I get passionately involved in a discussion or something I'm writing.

I don't wander around constantly whining about how much I suck. Really.

~ ~ ~

Mood swing alert. Hollingsworth came back.

Me: So who is this person?
H.: Her name is Wednesday. She currently lives near EMU.
Me: I don't think that would be a very good idea at all.
H.: No? Why not?
Me: I think it would be a little too stressful to try and live with someone I don't know while I'm in the process of trying to move.
H.: Well, OK...I hope you change your mind, though. She could really use the help. You wouldn't believe all the stuff this guy pulls on her.
Me: I'm sorry about that, but I don't think it would be a good idea.
Wednesday is, in fact, his new girlfriend. I simply cannot believe that he doesn't get how crass that was. He mentioned that he lived with me and my old roommate when he first moved here from Philadelphia. My response: "Sharon wasn't my ex." He hasn't responded to that yet.
Me: Do you see the difference? Do you get why asking me that was so crass? You're asking me, your ex-gf, if your current gf can come live with me. Do you see why I might find that upsetting?
H: Lisa, if you'd asked me, I would have said it was fine. I'm your EX. I no longer have any say or weight in what you do. We're just friends now. As a friend, I would've been happy to help you out.
Me: I guess I just suck as a friend then. Sorry.
I just want this to be over. I feel sick.
Posted by Lisa at 02:59 PM | Comments (0)

September 13, 1999


Warning: I'm mood swinging like mad today, like about once every thirty seconds. I'm hovering back and forth between elation and despair, and I don't know why. It's odd and more than a bit annoying.

This weekend was wonderful. I got to visit with Dawn and Jason, in addition to meeting their friends Alex and Heidi. Most of Saturday was spent gaming. I played Shadowrun for the first time. Interesting game. It's a hybrid between cyberpunk and fantasy. It was more fun than I thought it would be, since I'm not usually into combat-related games. And of course, I got to run my Changeling chronicle. I have no words. I'm still just... high on the whole experience. For the first time, not only was I really into the story I was setting up, but I dragged my three players (Dawn, Jason and Alex) along with me. I was honestly and truly successful in setting up the mood and providing enough tension to keep everyone interested. And to top it off, I had a wonderful time playing all the characters the players ran into. Ham that I am, of course. The players were even more involved than I realized in a few cases, and reacted more strongly to a few things than I had anticipated. This is never a bad thing.

6:53 pm

Jeez. This afternoon got busy on me. My moods seem to have stablized. A little. I'm definitely excited about my game still. Already planning what I'm going to do with the story for next month's game. I got to speak to James a little bit today too, which is always a good thing. A good thing, and something that's getting all too rare now that he's back in school.

And Brand is coming back from his vacation tonight. Yay! I'm not sure when I'll get to talk to him though, or when exactly he's getting home. I suppose I could call his house every hour or so, but that'd be a little obsessive, I think. I just have a lot to tell him! I admit, I'm steeling myself a little too. I know he's going to want to tell me all about Mo. I did really well this week with the jealousy thing. It really didn't bother me much that they were together. Almost made me wonder if I truly am getting over it all. But I'm still a little nervous. I hate the way I act when I'm jealous. I hate knowing that I'm acting jealous, hating how I'm acting but not being able to make myself stop. But what sort of best friend am I if I can't listen to anything about the most important person in his life? (In truth, I'm cringing as I'm writing this, because I know they both read my journal -- but I promised myself I wouldn't self-edit.) Anyway... now that the worst of that is off my chest. I really am looking forward to being able to talk to him again! It's been over a week.

My voice is still half-gone, but I think I figured it out. I had very little problem over the weekend when I was at Dawn and Jason's place. I'm thinking I'm allergic to something at home or at work. I'm going to wait and see this weekend. If it gets better when I'm away from work, then I'll have narrowed it down. And if not, then I'll know it's probably something at home. In any case, I'm tired of only having half a voice!

Today is a two-poem day. I rediscovered a favorite of mine and I simply have to share. This is exactly how I feel on a good day -- which today is threatening to turn into.

Phenomenal Woman
Maya Angelou

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I'm telling lies.
I say,
It's in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I'm a woman
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It's the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I'm a woman
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can't touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can't see.
I say,
It's the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I'm a woman
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Now you understand
Just why my head's not bowed.
I don't shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It's in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
the palm of my hand,
The need of my care.
'Cause I'm a woman
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Yup. That's me. Sometimes.
Posted by Lisa at 03:20 PM | Comments (0)

September 09, 1999

I'm Alive!

Well. This has certainly been an interesting week. I kept wanting to write and I kept not being able to. Things at work have been frantic, with me playing catch up quite a bit. In addition, I'm running my Changeling game this weekend, and had a lot of preparation to do there. But I'm excited about it. With a little bit of help, I came up with a great storyline, full of all the epic things I love about Changeling: lovers lost, lovers reunited, ancient myths come to life, good and evil facing off... if all goes well this weekend, I might post a narrative of what happened. And to top it all off, I have a new player joining the group. Which makes me excited and scared. I'm really new at this storytelling/gamemastering thing.

While this has been a week from hell, there was one bright spot on Tuesday. Jo, after reading this entry with its references to the Clairol wrong number thing, found a support number for (I think) one of our competitors and called them:

"Hello? Yeah.. I need help, this hair coloring is awful. It didn't work at all... What? This isn't Clairol? It's not? Well.. do you know where I could get their number? Well.. all right. Thanks..."
Today was a much needed break, after feeling stressed out all week. TJ's birthday is this weekend, and she won't be in tomorrow, so we celebrated early. Boy did we celebrate. Great lunch, lots of fun stuff, we got very goofy. Of course, goofy receptionists are not that uncommon around here, but... today was an exceptionally goofy day, complete with odd hair decorations, snarky comments about co-workers and discussions of the ramifications of drunkenness on the job. (Don't ask about that last one. Really.)

I feel much more relaxed.

I haven't done nearly as much preparation for moving as I had hoped, but again... week from hell. I'll make up for time next week. And I realized this morning as I was driving to work that I missed an appointment with Nancy this morning. Still haven't called her. I have a serious case of the guilties right now. I missed last week too, and this week was a reschedule.

To be completely honest, I wasn't sure how I was going to handle this week. Brand and Mo are together, and last time she went to visit him, I didn't handle things very well at all. Of course, a lot has changed since then. I'm happy to announce that I haven't spent this week in a state of self-imposed depression. I've been too damn busy! I have thought about them from time to time, mostly just because I miss talking to them. I'm learning to let go of a lot of useless, negative things. Yay for me.

Maybe this hasn't been such a bad week after all.

Posted by Lisa at 04:42 PM | Comments (0)

September 04, 1999


Apartment hunting today, whee! I actually managed to drag myself out of bed by about 10:30 or so, and left the house by 11:00. In other words, I'm tiiiiired. But, I went to three different apartment complexes, and I have three more leads. Two of the three I looked at today I really liked. They had all the things I want (dishwasher, air conditioning, washer/dryer), I like the location, they're within my price range, and they're available. That last is a real treat, considering that this is a college town and all the students just moved in.

Money might be tighter than I thought, but we'll see. The two complexes I really liked have relatively small move-in costs. If all goes well, I would start moving around the middle of October. That works pretty well, I think. It gives me two weeks to gradually move stuff over. I feel less overwhelmed at the thought of that. I'm also thinking of moving all my own boxes, but hiring movers to move all my furniture. Assuming I can afford it, of course. One quote I got for two men and a moving truck was $50 an hour. So I'm left looking at my apartment wondering how many hours it would take to move my furniture. Two hours maybe? Three?

While I was looking at the different apartments, I was thinking This could be my place. Mine and no one else's. It was an exciting thought. I think I can handle moving in small steps. Not a single moving day, or even a moving weekend. Maybe a moving month. Yeah, a moving month sounds good. Of course, that means for that time frame I'll be sort of unsettled, but... I'll be unsettled one way or the other until I move anyway.

I'm wondering how Max is going to take the move. He's been acting strange again. Thursday night he tried to run out the front door as I came in. This is the cat who used to be terrified of the outdoors. He's been an indoor cat the whole time I've had him. He was so afraid, that if you did set him outside, if the door was open, he'd flee back inside. Thursday night, when I wouldn't let him out, he stood at the screen door yowling at the top of his lungs. He bitched at me until after Hollingsworth left for work and I went upstairs. The only thing I can think of is that there might have been a cat in heat outside, but Max is neutered. Has been since he was old enough for the surgery. I'm clueless. My response to any weirdness from him lately is just that he's picking up on the tension and weirdness in the house right now. Or he's just cracked. This is always a possibility.

~ ~ ~

I have to hand it to the Bud Light advertising people. The "Real American Heroes" radio ad campaign absolutely cracks me up. They salute such unsung heroes as "Mr. Giant Foam Finger Maker" and "Mr. Driving Range Ball Picker-Upper", complete with a red-blooded Jon Bon Jovi/Bruce Springsteen sound-alike wailing a big production number behind an absolutely straight-faced announcer. If I were a beer-drinker, I'd probably try their beer. Just because those ads are so damn silly, and make me giggle. Then again, making me giggle usually isn't a real challenge.

~ ~ ~

At what point does controlling your feelings become a good thing? I'm really struggling with this one. Again. I've always thought that controlling feelings was a bad thing, if it was even possible, and that indeed I should just concontrate on controlling my actions. Can you really control how you feel about something? Or is that just an illusion? My own feelings on a lot of different issues are a confused mess right now. Feelings that I thought I was over have been coming back with a vengeance. I'm hanging in there. I'm working on controlling my actions. I fail sometimes, but... I'm trying.

Posted by Lisa at 03:09 PM | Comments (0)

September 03, 1999

A Day in the Life

I realized that for all that I talk about myself as a part of this journal, there's really very little information about what I actually do during my day. Granted, it's probably not terribly exciting, but.. hey, I already broke down a month, why not break down a day?

9:00 am -- Stereo starts up. Sisters of Mercy. Loud. I promptly groan and turn it off, setting the timer to go off in thirty more minutes.
9:30 am -- Stereo goes off again. More moaning and groaning and glaring at the sun outside my window. Eventually (closer to 10) I get up and start getting ready for work.
10:40 am -- I leave the house, about five to ten minutes late.
11:00 am -- (Or close enough to 11, anyway) I get to work. Spend the first fifteen minutes chatting with Jo and Michelle about life in general, and anything I need to know about the morning. (But mostly, it's just gossip. Gossip is a staple of the day. C'mon. We're receptionists, sister to the secretary. We gotta keep up the stereotype.)
11:15 am -- First email check of the day. I answer phones while I catch up on my email lists. (Answering phones: I'm a receptionist for an accounting software company. Customers call the 800 number for support and customer service. If clueless or lost or lazy or phone-treephobic, they press '0' and get one of us.)
11:40 am -- (Or thereabouts) My weird combination of breakfast and lunch. Followed by a snack of some sort around 5, and dinner around 8:30 or 9.
Noon -- Start working on projects in earnest. Projects include spreadsheets with call statistics for support for the previous day, and on Friday, carting huge useless stacks of paper all over the company (also called 'delivering daily reports' - I hate it). In between calls and data entry and sorting faxes and whatever else I'm doing, I keep an eye on my email, and find quotes for the day's journal entry. The phone calls also never stop. Included are the usual irate customers and the occasional wrong number:

"Hello? Is this Clairol? I want to know where to find the old liquid hair-coloring you used to make, because this new cream stuff is horrible on my hair!"
"Ma'am, this is an accounting software company."
"This isn't Clairol? This is the number that's on the box."
"No ma'am. We make software for accountants."
"Is this [rattles off a phone number nowhere close to one of ours]?'
"I'm sorry, ma'am, it's not."
"Well can you tell me how to reach them?"
The conversation continues for a bit after that, and finally she hangs up. If there's any justice in the world, somewhere a Clairol receptionist is answering questions about a payroll reporting program.
2:00 pm -- Okay. I've done sufficient work. Now it's time to start slacking off in earnest. Translation: Time to write the journal entry. Hey, I'm still answering phones, right? On a good day, it takes me about thirty to forty-five minutes to write an entry, barring writer's block or huge phone interruptions. Yesterday was not a good day. Tough entry. I kept getting stuck. I know what I wanted to say, but I don't think I quite said it.
3:00 pm -- Lunch time. Well, okay, I almost never eat on my lunch hour. I usually write or goof around online. This time yesterday, still writing the journal entry. And writing. And revising.
4:00 pm -- Back from lunch. Worked on projects a little more, sent some email.
6:00 pm -- The other receptionists have left (usually, the Banal One has no life, and often hangs around doing nothing rather than going home). From here on out, I usually stick to sorting faxes and goofing around a bit more online.
8:00 pm -- Quitting time! I head out. Usually I pick up dinner on the way home. I almost never cook. Never. This is one of the big things I want to change when I move out on my own again.
Evening -- I spend most of the evening online, as several friends are on and we end up causing a ton of trouble. It was fun. My projects for the night, in addition to role-playing, are two different character applications that I'm working on. Usually I end up talking to Brand, but not last night. Instead, somewhere around 3:30 am, James shows up and we got to talk for a bit. he kinda let me have it about my journal entry for yesterday. I said that the things I give in a friendship are harder to quantify. His response: "The things that are harder to quantify are usually the more important things. You're an awesome person to have as a friend. Accept it." Well.. if you insist...
4:00 am -- I finally crawled off to bed for the night.

All in all a pretty typical weekday for me.

Posted by Lisa at 02:13 PM | Comments (0)

September 02, 1999

Ewe Live, Ewe Learn

Sometimes I feel like a sheep. Or, alternately, a sponge.

I spent about four hours on the phone with Brand last night. Er, this morning. Not an unusual occurance. In an average week, I probably spend at least ten hours on the phone with him. (At $0.05 a minute? What's to worry?) We talk about anything and everything. Often, I end up learning something. In fact, I almost always end up learning something. Last night it was epistemology and historical speculation as opposed to historical 'fact'. Epistemology is the study of how we know what we think we know, what methods we use to study things. And a lot of ancient history, I learned, isn't proven fact at all, but rather is a series of widely accepted theories based on the little we do know. (Actually, I think I already knew that... I just got a few concrete examples last night.) Oh, and we covered a smidgen of India's ancient history. Yeah, I know. I'm a geek. I eat this stuff up. History, philosophy, all of that. It tickles my brain.

While I'd say that Brand and I are probably equal in terms of pure native intelligence, he's almost got a Ph.D, and I got maybe halfway through a B.A. The gap isn't in intelligence, but rather in knowledge and skills. It's a gap I feel pretty keenly at times. Don't get me wrong. It's not that I necessarily feel inferior to him. I don't. We took different paths early on. What I missed out on in formal education, I more than made up for in life experience and learning about me and how I work. But I crave the knowledge that he has. I kept asking last night, "Are you sure I can't have your brain? Can't I just sort of copy the files from your brain to mine?" Unfortunately he said no, so I guess I gotta do things the hard way.

And that's just it. I see where intellectually I want to be, but I don't know how to get there. My first response is to start reading books about different topics that intrigue me. But I can't find the one book that has everything I want to learn! And reading more than one book would take too long, damn it. Ah yes... the desire for knowledge meets head on with the impatient and often lazy brain. It's not just that I want to know what Brand knows (and more). I want to know it NOW and I don't want to work for it. So you see the conflict.

It's times like this what I wish I wish I WISH I hadn't left college. I mean, ultimately it doesn't matter. I wasn't really ready to do any serious learning when I was in college. Now I am, and I can't afford to just submerge myself in it the way I want to.

I just realized what it is I need. I need a library card. I want books, scads of books, mountains of books... but I can't afford to buy all of them, and I don't want to buy something that turns out to be a rotten source of information. I need a library card! A library card. A night class or two in things that I want to learn, to hell with a degree program for now. And I have the tutor from hell who'll keep throwing things at me to be interested in.

But there's the rub. And this goes back to feeling like a sheep. As much as I adore Brand, our friendship sometimes feels a little one-sided. I feel like I learn and learn and learn from him, but I will always be several steps behind, no matter what. A part of me, petty or no, wants to be a few steps ahead in something at least. I mean, he teaches me so much... but what do I teach him? I can't think of a bloody thing. I'm the follower. I'm the apprentice who sits at the master's feet. It's a role I seem to choose often, as a great deal of my very close friendships are based on a similar interaction. But sometimes that role chafes at me a little.

And I don't want to spend so much time playing catch-up for all the things I don't know that I forget to stop and enjoy the learning process itself. There's so much to cover... I don't know where to start.

A sheep or a sponge? I so much want to think of myself as the latter... but so often I feel like the former.

Posted by Lisa at 01:55 PM | Comments (0)

September 01, 1999

Movin' Right Along...

Today is the day of the Amazing Disappearing Receptionists. Funny, when I got here three hours ago, there were five of us. Then T.J. left at noon to start her vacation. Shortly thereafter, Jo and Michelle took off for lunch... we thought. Then there were two. Lisa and the Banal One. One o'clock came and went. Nobody came back. One-thirty came and went. Still nobody. Finally our manager came over and told us Michelle had gone home for the day. This, of course, was news to us. A little bit before two, Jo finally came back from lunch. Yay. So now we're at half-staff instead of one-third staff.

Yes, this has made me a little cranky. It's the first of the month, typically one of our busiest days, since all the good little accountants are trying to get their month-end stuff done. And all the bad little accountants are calling to be grumpy at us because their software isn't working. I'm not a wellspring of patience today.

However, on the good side of things... I found out yesterday that moving out and breaking our lease is going to be much easier than I had originally anticipated. This weekend I'm going to start apartment hunting, as well as cleaning up (a truly Herculean task, trust me) and packing unnecessary things. If all goes well, I should be able to move as early as the end of October.

As excited as I am about this, I'm having a ton of mixed feelings. Talking to Hollingsworth about this has just been odd. He's being terribly understanding, and I end up feeling like a shit. We have conversations like this:

Me: Well, I checked with the office, they say we can move out if we pay a month and a half's rent. That would be about $625 a piece.
H: Okay. Is that what you wanted to do?
Me: [feeling like a heel for 'making' him move] Yeah... I think so.
H: When did you want to do it?
Me: [hemming and hawing] I was thinking as early as the end of October.
H: Oh. Um, all right. I'll have to start saving some money and see if I can find a place to go... [How pitiful sounding is that?!]
Me: [resists urge to tell him to go live with his new girlfriend] Yeah... I'm gonna start looking this weekend. Let me know as soon as you can.

I feel like the bad guy here. I don't think he's consciously trying to make me feel bad. That's never been his style. This is just... weird. Monday night, before I found out how easy it would be to move, I started having some serious second thoughts about this whole thing. I started wondering if maybe Hollingsworth and I couldn't get back together. If somehow I could win him back from this mystery woman. Now... I don't want that, I know I don't. Just for a few moments, grief over what we were reared its head and I started cycling toward denial. Anger I've had a-plenty. And frankly, I'm just scared about moving out and living alone, even though I want to, and even though I know it's the right thing to do.

So I'm psyching myself up for this. Planning how to keep from getting overwhelmed. Thinking about hiring movers rather moving the furniture myself. Breaking everything down into little, little steps. I can do this. I should do this. I will do this.

Posted by Lisa at 02:02 PM | Comments (0)