ennui

Ennui:
A feeling of weariness and dissatisfaction; dullness and languor of spirits, arising from lack of interest; boredom.

Yeah, that's kinda it. I wanna post again on the 'funk, but I just can't seem to give a damn right now. I burned out of posting the other night, after emailing my mother. I wrote to her like I'd write in a journal, changing colors with every different subject I could think of, and being brutally honest about my feelings up here.

And she liked it! I figured that she would, but it still flips me out that she doesn't start preaching at me (too much) when I mention sex. I think she was biting her tongue when I mentioned about the woman teaching me to knit. She likes to adopt everybody, and I get uncomfortable at those types if people.
It's my father in me, I guess.

The knitter has some very-- peculiar--ideas about the love life of her son. She says the when he turns thirty, she'll let him read the Song of Solomon, and then she'll bring home the girl he should marry. She's basing it on the Hebraic way of things. The upside of this is that he doesn't get the "what about this one? She's nice" nitpicking that most guys get. At least for the next three years. It takes a lot of pressure off...but thirty?

I miss Homie.

Sometimes it just hits me that I miss a guy back home. He was happily married, has three kids and his younger brother was in my graduating class. But when I think of home, I think of Homie. It would probably freak him out that I almost teared up at the thought of saying good-bye to him when I left, he was just that great of a guy.
I put him in the same group of people as John-bear and the other guys in YES. I have a fondness for those fellas that is a different level than even how I feel about my brother. I'd happily put my life on the line for any of them. Thankfully, they don't need me to, and they'd never ask anyway. I love my brother, but I'd shove him through a plate glass window if he managed to piss me off...these guys, I wouldn't.

Yay! I finally finished my dividend paperwork. Took me long enough. Now, on to taxes, and trying to pry my w=2 out of Avis's grimy hands.

ISFP

I re-took the personality test the other day, when a bunch of my friends were out checking themselves out. I thought it was interesting that in the past ten years, I went from being an intuitive to a sensing personality. Then again it could have been that I was particularly stressed about my jobs that day.

Yes, I am an introvert. Me. The girl who can find someone I know in any town (Wichita, New Orleans, Kodiak, Newton) and name quite a few people in my hometown(s). Now the problem is that I'm spiraling into my need to be alone, and I don't know how to explain to my friends that I will be in my own world for a couple of weeks. I haven't created anyuthing in weeks. I do my best drawings at Subway after 9p.m., even if the inspirations might have a little to do with my friends' children.

My ex-boyfriend used to complain that I knew everybody in the world. Well, yeah. My world. He never let me know any of his old world...except for his immediate family.

countdown

I found a book at the library, written by Richard Pelzer, David's younger brother. If you haven't had a chance to read "A child called IT", I highly recommend that you find it and read it. The man is a miracle, and has a really..loving...look at life. I used the word "loving" 'cuz there's no real way I can explain this man's look on life.

In other nooz, Psycho B screwed up. All in good intentions, but she screwed up anyway. She saw the yellow stains on the carpet (like the stains tumeric would make) and ran to the bathroom, where she knew there were cleaners. In her attempt to clean up her mess (I'm pretty sure it was from her cooking) she used the first bottle she could grab. Well, the yellow was cleaned up, bless her heart, but she didn't notice the newer pink spots on the blue carpet. We narrowed it down that she grabbed the All-purpose cleaner...with bleach. Poor kid can't win for loosing. Psycho A was out of town until last night, and the first thing she sees is the pink spot. I swear, I could see the dollar signs popping into her brain. She apologized for yelling at me right off of the bat, but the house was left a little dirtier than she'd like and the idea of having to pay for a new carpet is having her hunting psycho B down like a full fledged locomotive.

Now there's a point one has to make between being a bitch and being understanding, but firm. Psycho A has refused to acknowledge the difference. Now I like her as a friend, and I think it takes a while for her to really admit a friendship, but I can understand why her kids are with the "lying, cheating ex" instead of her. My saving grace seems to be the fact that I'm hardly every home. I think I'm heading out to King's Diner in the morning, just to go through the motions of getting out of the house before 6 am.
The cop downstairs is one of my coffee regulars, and she was laughing over the realization that while both Roomies were out, I sure was home a lot more. ( heh heh, I neglected to tell Psycho B that A was gone for a few days...kinda sorta on purpose. She's sweet, but she doesn't shut up!)

I gotta get going

Just because. that's all I seem to be here for. Lunch is up at Mill Bay coffee, and my friends all know how to find me there.

Yes, I said I had friends. Surprises the hell outta me too. They all came out of the woodwork this week too. I think it was the sun. It's been warm here. But it isn't Easter yet. The snows don't come until the crocuses are in bloom. Alaska's that way. It lulls a person into the sunlight, then bitchslaps them with a ton of snow.