11 May 2006

it's raining, it's pouring

welllll... not really. think about where i am. i'll never have a season again. it's bright and hot and fucking sunny all the damn time. it's sunny. every. single. day. there was some weather before i got to town, but i'm sure that's all over now. my two big weather phemomena at this point are daytime and nighttime on the thermometer. but that is neither here nor there. it's a metaphorical way of saying that i'm closing in on the whole job thing, i think.

we've been driving over this past week, sharing the job. it's kind of cool and it kind of blows. on the good side of things, i'm getting paid to read books and sit on my butt. on the lesser side, i feel like i'm doing nothing and have no talents. is this all i can do?!? methinketh not, so i keep on sending out the old so-called resume and cover to get something more stimulating. whoa baby, i got three calls today after mere hours of sending out. let's not get our hopes up here; i'm tired of being disappointed. anyhooo... on to greener pastures, both professionally speaking and in this particular post.

technology hates me. there is a reason that i'm the techno-emily-dickinson of the family. phones hate me, remote controls loathe me, computers simply despise me to the core at a whim. all the gadgets in my life seem to have a permanent case of premenstrual syndrome and i have no chocolate with which to appease them. i'm just going to let them all settle for a few days and have a talk with them after that, just like you would with a real woman.

WE ATE AT ARBY'S TONIGHT! it was inspirational, i tell you. this wouldn't normally be cause for such jubilance. it would and maybe should be more of a source of fatty fatty fat girl shame with some guilt pleasure thrown in. the meal was special on this occasion because i did not cry. confused? lemme work it out for you...

a couple of nights ago i was having some "sensitive time" about being here. we'd gone to the theatre to see a show and it set off a reminder in my head that i have no peeps, no arts involvement, no nada-zip-hole-in-the-donut-nothing. it was decided that i needed something to make me feel more at home. arby's, see? after a long and out of the way drive to van nuys we pulled up to an arby's that was already fucking closed. at ten o'clock. even the drive thru! i burst into tears, or as close as i can physically come to it lately. (more on that below) derek drove around until i was calm enough to just sit there like a beaten woman. beaten by this stupid town where everything is always closed when i need it to be there for me.

isn't this supposed to be one of those places where shit is always open? up all night, party all the time. what the fucking fuck?!?

since then i have been little miss fussypants. i'm grouchy smurf. i'm a poopy, droopy girl. you were all waiting and just knew that nervous breakdown would happen, right? wrong. just poopiness - a billion dirty diapers worth.

moping can be an art form if you only try hard enough. if you're a big enough sad sack, you can even avoid watching pee wee herman or kathy and mo in favor of simply sitting there staring at the wall and wondering when you'll start crying again, if you could manage to cry. most of your time if spent on the edge of crying, but it never happens. the welling is frequent and difficult on the nose; the anticipation just makes things worse. this must be what mary and grove feel like when they want to throw up but just can't do it. let's just hope it takes less time than years and years before i get to cry again. i'm trying to take that scarlett o'hara attitude and think of tomorrow as another day and all that shit. fuck, that is hard when you realize your chickens are all gone.

so fast forward to this afternoon... there are people calling me based on my resume. (moi?!) i've gotten through traffic relatively unscathed, and i have mail waiting for me at home. derek promised to take me back to another, a different arby's and so we were off. ahhhhhhh, that lovely crap food junkie smell was wafting past my tear ducts. i swear i could've started bawling right there if not for the fact that i was busy eating hormonal meat and fried potato cakes. thank you arby's! for just a moment i was back where i belonged and felt like i might be able to take a trip to target with another person someday soon. i had hope. i had happiness. i had horsey sauce.

i think i'm going to cry now, or at least try really hard and pluck out a nose hair soon if it comes to that. tomorrow is another day.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

I do hope you put the horsey sauce on the potato cakes, like any sensible person knows to do. (Can you believe I've gotten weird looks for doing that? Fools.)

georgeious said...

it's liz! EEE!!! hello, number four. veronica and i were just gushing over you the other day.

of course i put it on the potato cakes. piss on those weird looks people. they don't know what they're missing. horseradish is a most awesome condiment, like say.... the cheeseball.

Anonymous said...

Ahhhh...the cheeseball.