tapping in

lots of other blogs make me think of that dork. lord, was he a loser. and a wretched e-mailer. what was i thinking?
i hate to schmooze. hate it, hate it, hate it. the vapid conversations, the giddiness and hugging of perfumed people you won't think twice about once you're out the door, the air-kissing, the superficial questions no one really wants the answers to.
yech.
how often i've bitten back my lies: nice to see you, too. oh, things have been fine. except that i slit my wrists again last night. starting to get a tad irksome, if you know what i mean. cleaning up the towels and the bathtub and all that. oh, things are going as well as could be expected, considering the terminal colon cancer. if only my ass would stop gushing pints of blood, i'd be able to wrap my presents more efficiently. oh, yes, i'm looking forward to the holidays, too. too bad my house just burned to the ground and my angry rottweiler gnawed off my little girl's left leg. in this day and age, though, it's really not that bad to be a cripple, so things are generally looking up. oh, yeah, i'm good. i've been having such incredible sex lately. my boyfriend and i just started experimenting with gender roles. i tell you, nothing instills power better than a strap-on purple penis. just for shits. and colorful reactions. just to splash a little jarring pollock across the feather softness of their monets.
i'm sure it's vastly more horrendous elsewhere. i should not complain. i just wish to be more of a anthropologist and less of an active participant.
the glimmer. the splash of pollock: he asked if i was writing, if i had a chance to do any writing with my job. he identified something i never knew he saw. he identified a need that many people who are more intimately involved with me do not recognize. he was dissatisfied with the standardized, superficial response. he knows that i am unhappy. he can sense it. which is why i'm drawn to him and have been since i bolted upright in his class four years ago and told him he was full of shit, since he appreciated me for it. i need to try to take a class with him in the spring. he is tapped into me. he's teaching a class that might help me better understand certain people in my world, and i can't devote 5 hours straight to exploring the topic that truly entices me. it's free. i need to learn. he can really teach me. it would be an interesting anthropological endeavor, anyway, to observe swatties in class with a pregnant student in their midst. he would laugh loudly at that rationale for taking his class.
i wonder how he's doing, if he's finished with his finals, if he's preparing meticulously for his departure to the sunnier side of the nation. i worry about him during finals, hermiting himself, succumbing to the stress. i hope he smokes some pot.
i can't wait for him to be finished with his finals. we need to reconnect. we drifted too far apart last night.
she's cleaning for him, hoping, i guess, that he'll break up with his girlfriend and fall head over heels for tidy her. god help me if i ever makeover my world to impress a man.
yesterday's repetitious reminder that we are social misfits smacked me flatly in the face. just because i remember being there, hating my parents for being so weird, wanting so badly to belong to the crowd. of mindless cows. retrospectively, my parents were right. the world was wrong. they were right to steer me away from the herd, to encourage me to knock over trees and boulders and other obstacles so that i could forge my own path. but i didn't know that then. and she won't know that now. which is why she writes about the bearded jolly man in her journal. she wants to be just like them. she wants to fit. and they're trying to make her fit. "she needs a best friend," presumably because the best friend would normalize her and my child would stop being so weird. he chastised me for pining for private school. i don't know how i couldn't. she needs someone like she had in the afternoons last year, someone who appreciates her soul the way he appreciates mine. that's the only way to really learn and grow.
potato chips and jellybeans. i can't get enough. this child is in for a rough few months. time to complete my application and hope for a positive return. time to stop dwelling on tomorrow's findings. time to race around the office because i'm on a complete sucrose buzz and, god, two weeks away from this stagnancy will be glorious.