Apr. 8th, 2002

rockettqween: (Default)
A word on friends.... My friends are probably one of the most important things in my life. Because I simply adore my friends, I endure 9 months of terrible weather here in seattle per year. I almost moved out of this place a little over a month ago, but due to the fact that numerous people got together to tell me how fabulous I was and the fact that the person I was to travel with stopped telling me this a long time ago and became not much more to me than a living hot water bottle to dust around due to crippling depression they refused to try to do anything about except bolt the state. I wanted to get out of this one way ticket to constant misery and because I knew I had people to back me up and listen to my incessant chatter I felt okay in doing this. They also had couch space. I have a wonderful collection of friends, enemies, and aquaintances. Some of whom will read this so I must take this opportunity to kiss as much ass as possible. As far as enemies go, I call them my "Fan Club" because those who don't like me REALLY don't like me and I find the methods they go about to let me know this and their reactions to my presence so damned funny it's almost fun to run into them. Playing pool against them is another story completely and in that case it's almost better for me to just pass up the opportunity. Seeing as I can turn into a seething ugly creature of blackness when my ego is insulted. I just try to avoid conflict. Which is of course why I keep a distance from the fan club as poking at them would only lead to problems. You don't like me? Stay away from me. I'll try to do the same for you. I could write a page or two on friends and I don't feel like it right now. More will be forthcoming. I'm scattered today. As in everyday. God I love Skinny Puppy.
rockettqween: (Default)
Don't you just hate it when you're trying to write something and some hot creature is sitting next to you distracting you? Wait a minute... LJ IS addictive. But since I quit drinking again, I need a new addiction and I've been left to it. Thank you my dear. I've been perusing others live journals just to get a little insight on some of the gossip about ME even if it's old because I have a large ego and it must be fed. Good or bad, the point is folks are talking about ME. This journal is my big stinking ego fest. No wonder geekalpha likes this stuff. My hair's all messed up. I've been distracted a lot lately. I'm trying to talk on the phone and do this at the same time. It doesn't work. Write the name geekalpha and geekalpha calls. Yes, I must giggle over some of the people who have come into my life and then decided to asterisk *me*. Oh well. I can't help it. I'm a neat person. It's not my fault. Well actually it IS my fault. I made me. I didn't give birth to me, but I made the choices and read the books and heard the music and hung out with the people who helped shape my personality. I guess I'm doing alright. I love the Pet Shop Boys. Does that make me uncool? Life has been one emotional roller coaster as I recover from the freefall of blowing my life up. Something happened at the ReBar. Well, something happened before that. I asked someone who witnessed my taking my life back, "Have you ever prayed for strength and got it?" They said they weren't much for prayer and frankly neither am I, but sometimes, the last refuge of a sinner gets me through some rough shit. Even if it's just a placebo effect designed to make me FEEL stronger, it's a powerful tool. As opposed to a band-aid for an internal hemmhorage. Which is what my sore-kidneyed self now refers to alcohol as. It was so nice ignoring myself. I found myself a nice twisted girly man with more problems than me to shack up with and then I broke out the band-aids as that got rather old rather quick. I'm dumping. Others will read my dumping and will therefore validate it. Whoo Hoo. Yes, my misery here for your reading pleasure. But it's not all misery. I've had some wonderful feelings and insights since and just before Blowing My Life Up. Not that I'm going to share too personal. Ick. Bad grammar. Don't want to stop to edit. Not my style. My favorite workout partner is waiting around to take me to one of those awful 12-step meetings. Leaving me to this LJBS. Which I'm starting to like. I've been really reflective lately. Real reflective. My life must be changing. At least it's been fun. I may be prone to depression but I try to have fun inbetween existential crisis. Meetings tend to bum me out severely. I've decided that the reason why is because they make me think about myself and how much work I still have to do. There's also the fact that I can't stand half, no, three-quarters of the people there. I come out of meetings crying foul about hypocracy and pointlessness. I too was caught up in sharing a lot of bullshit. Now I'm back because, whatever they were doing, I didn't wind up face down in a pile of rocks with a scratched up cornea waking up next to a poodle. God is a POODLE. God is not a BULLET. God is a POODLE. Damn poodles. Well, if God exists, he speaks through other people. God speaks through good sex, drag queens, pool players, nightmares, stalkers, drug addicts, bartenders, cab drivers, old men, three year olds, movies, books, photographers, porn stars, etc. (Porn should not have a spirit guide. I really should stop writing for a time. It's getting late and I have to go peel my skull open and rearrange its contents a bit for an hour and a half. Plus I shouldn't neglect my workout partner. I'm growing quite fond of him, against my will which is probably a good sign. I am so not in control of how I feel. Thank fucking god. It feels so much better this way. It can surprise you. I love situations that you don't put a lot of effort into that serendipitously turn into more than one could possibly expect. What is it about 80's music that can send a girl swooning into an emotinal sway. Forget I said that. I really need to shut up for a bit. Like I said I'm distracted and some girls would kill for the kind of distraction I'm experiencing right now. How did I get so lucky? Did I lose a bet with god? Hmmm....

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