Aug. 16th, 2002

rockettqween: (Default)
Spending my Friday night going to bed early as I have a job interview at 10am. Saturday morning. Fuckers. At least it's an interview. I'm not expecting ot get hired because I almost always say something or do something at interviews that makes someone give me that look like they're interviewing a crazy alien or something. Especially when I'm tired which my non-day person chemistry will most certainly orchestrate. I don't even rememeber applying for the job, really. Oh well.

Saw my son on Wednesday. He's a tough kid. We were running around the backyard when I heard him crying. I whipped around and ran towards him as he screamed, "BEES!!!" He had a couple of bees stuck to his leg, stinging him. My workout partner ran over to help get them off and I hoisted up the kid and ran into the house getting stung on the shoulder in the process. Luckily he wasn't allergic. I was frightened for a bit because my sister's allergic to bees and it's a 911 thing if she gets stung. He sustained 6(!) bee stings and I got one. My mother made a poultice to put on the stings and we held ice on him. He said, "I don't want to stop crying!" I told him he didn't have to. I'd cry too if I got stung by six bees. I had one bee sting and I felt like whimpering. He grabbed my head and pushed it towards his shoulder and cradled it. Then he smiled. My mother said, "Hey, your mama makes you smile." He said, "Yeah, I may cry some more but I can try to smile a little too." That's my kid all over.

I forgot to mention [Bad username or site: @ livejournal.com] in my Who the fuck is that? club post. He complained so here's the story:

Vogue - Early May 2000. I've just found out a co-worker died after a drug overdose that left her brain dead in a coma for a few days. It's early. 9ish. I've just gone next door to get a shot of tequila and come back over to the Vogue to contemplate my existance and the direction my life is taking because I am also in the midst of a substance abuse problem. I swear not to mix drugs ever again but within 24 hours I do. Coalblacksmith wanders over to me and procedes to hit on me like a good little pandering eunich. I think to myself, "Who the fuck is this guy?" I tell him I'm drinking. Someone I knew just died or something. He tells me he's in "the program". I am baffled that someone in my age group goes to 12-step meetings. My doctor has just told me he won't help me detox unless I start going to meetings. I haven't gone yet as I fear I am doomed to old men like my dry drunk uncle who died in a mental institution. I leave to go get drunk at the Gibson (a dive bar on 2nd avenue that is now non-existant) to sing Pretenders karaoke and think about my little problem.

A little while later, I'm drunk again and bored and run into coalblacksmith at the club again. I take him home with me for some reason where he procedes to act like a dork and I decide that under no circumstances am I getting naked with said person and figure I can con him into moving my freshly broken futon frame over to the other side of the room. He moves broken futon frame. He leaves his number so I can call him if I feel like going to a meeting.

A week later I meet Suicide Boy who makes me want to live again for some weird reason. I go to co-worker's funeral. I see her newly orphaned daughter. All of 7 years old. I realize one night when I'm so fucked up I'm afraid to go to sleep for fear I'll never wake up, that I have to quit it or I won't live much longer.

I begin talking to CBS about it periodically. Eventually I go to a meeting. Eventually I go to detox. Eventually CBS ceases to annoy me. Becomes friend of 2+ years.

There Uncle Fuzzynuts. You happy now?

I don't really want the job I'm interviewing for. I want to move back to Capitol Hill though, at least part time, and to do that I need some money. I also want to go back to school but I found out that the earliest I could do that with financial aid is Fall 2003. I guess I'd better try to eat something and go to bed soon. I'd rather be out socializing and playing pool looking sexy or something. Actually I'm amazed anyone wants to interview me period these days. I guess I'll see how this one goes. I was told if they don't give me a job, just say thank you and move on because it probably wasn't the best place for me anyway. Hmmmmmm......

I feel kind of queasy. But I had a good day with my workout partner. Going out and hanging out with other people makes me want to scrog him all the more. Note to self: socialize with people other than significant other more. Significant other will be much much tastier when you go home.

Guess I have to face the music and find the address for this place and go to bed after eating and rolling around. May get 6 hours of sleep if lucky. Rowr. I have a resentment towards any company that would ask you to come in at 10am on a Saturday to scrutinize you and your "skills".

I got your skills right here baby.

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rockettqween

October 2002

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