Filed under: life
I know that I’m being passive-agressive, but I don’t care. Tiffy really pissed me off today. She blew me off and went to hang out with some other friends after making plans with me. She’s done this before and I’ve let it go. This time I can’t. I let too many of these go, I’m tired of letting her get away with all the shit she does.
My reaction to this is probably an overreaction but it’s just been building up. I’m done with her. I’m not making any more plans, not getting my hopes up that she’ll be interested in how my day was or how my date went. I’m not going to even think that she could possibly be a friend to me anymore.
I’m done.
Filed under: AAAAAHHHH!, insomnia, Internet, life | Tags: google adventures, stalkers
While the monsters of Avenue Q would have you believe that the Internet is for porn, I have found, actually, that it is for stalkers (and porn). With the vast array of so called “social-networking” sites available, Internet stalking has become the number one pastime among peoples under 25 and can lead to some disastrous endings, like the teenage girl who killed herself when she was bullied on MySpace by someone pretending to be a teenage boy (but in reality was a schoolmate’s mother).
Recently I’ve been emailing someone in my area that I met on a site that’s kinda a cross between a social-networking site and a dating site. Nothing interesting, just chit-chat and things about favorite movies and things like that. A couple weeks ago he gave me his telephone number so that we could meet at a bar (or something) when I’m in Boise. I gave him a ring and noticed that it wasn’t a cell phone but a land line. I didn’t know people still had those.
I went two whole weeks before realizing that I could find out where he lives by doing a reverse phone lookup on Google. When I put his number into the search field on Google hit enter. I found his address and even saw a map. In Google Maps there was a “Street View” option. I saw a picture of his house. How creepy is that?!?!?
I tried my parents’ phone number, got the map, and did the street view. OMG I’m freaked out. I saw my car and our crazy mailbox. Imagine what a stalker could do with this. Just let your mind wonder a little.
I was even more freaked out when I went back to the original search page and saw the advertisements on the side. I clicked on one, I believe the title was “Trace This (area code) Number”. It took me to a site and I entered in a number and it came up with some results that you could buy. For $14.95 I can learn everything there is to know about someone with a land line phone including all house hold residents and any relatives.
And then, just when I thought that the Internet had changed purposes from a place to find naked pictures of celebrities to a place to find out everything about someone special “in” your life, another ad on the Google page took me to a porn site.
Last night while I was trying to sleep, I heard Gizzmo’s meow. “Meh” came a breathy hello from the darkness. My door (which is rarely fully closed because of the cats) was nudged open. I sat up in bed and looked. No cat came in. I heard a second “meh” and looked at the door. No cat there.
At this point I did something I hadn’t ever done when it came to my cat haunting. I called out for her. As soon as I did, I felt something get on my bed, but there was nothing there. I got freaked out and had to leave the room.
Returning an hour later, after a short walk outside at 2:30 a.m., I went to bed and slept for about an hour. During that hour, I had one of my dreams that Gizzmo is sleeping on my shoulder.
I’m not sure if I like being haunted by Gizzmo. I know that she’s not malicious, if anything she’s just keeping an eye on me, but it’s still a little creepy.
A few friends have told me that I’m just in mourning and that I miss her and I’m imagining all of this. My brother also hears Gizzmo, usually the same night/time that I do. Today I talked with him and he said that he was up around 2:30 and heard the first “meh” and heard my door open. This has to be real.
Filed under: Honesty Hour, life | Tags: bad person, going to hell, gossip, hate, lie, racism, steal
AKA: I’m Going to SUPERHELL
I was thinking the other day about the possibility that I’m not a good person afterall, that I may be a really bad person but I’m not aware enough to see that I’m a bad person. Not only would I be a bad person, but I’d be an ignorant bad person. I’ve since compiled a list of my bad traits/habits and prioritized them. These are the worst five.
5. I gossip. A lot. I recently attended the wedding of a fraternity brother of mine and a really good friend of mine. Matt and Kim. That’s not really relevant, but I thought I’d throw it out there. Anyway, while at their wedding reception I was sat next to my friend Sarah, another big gossip. We started drinking and started talking about everyone. Who was knocked-up, who got dumped whom, “who is that pregnant girl with P. and is it his?” On and on and on just gossiping about everyone we knew. It was fun, as it always has been, but this time I felt guilty afterwards. Some of the things I “heard from blahblahblah about blah and blahblah” were totally untrue but I relayed them to Sarah and anyone listening like truth. I shouldn’t do that anymore.
4. I steal. I should actually have put “I have stolen” but I think “I steal” has a better ring to it. When I was 12 I stole a can of air freshner from a little general store in town, my mom found out and made me take it in apologize. It was supposed to teach me a lesson that stealing is bad, but it really just taught me that I had to be more careful. Over the next six years, I stole more thatn $2000 worth of merchandise from stores in the area and $1000 in cash from family members. I was never caught. The last time I stole was $600 from my brother to sponsor a road trip 2 years ago. I was caught. I haven’t stolen anything since.
3. I laugh at racist jokes. I can’t help it. Some of them are really funny. I know the act of laughing at a racist joke is considered racist, but I’m not a racist. I don’t think so, at least, but what do I know? I’m a white kid from Idaho. And as Avenue Q has taught us: Evelyone’s a rittle bit lacist.
2. I hate people. Not in general, but some specific people and for stupid reasons. Kelly B. for seeing me for who I was/am, Alex Z. for telling me off, Amber S. for kicking me in the 6th grade, Jake Y. for saying one mean thing to me (when others have never said anything nice to/about me and I don’t hate them), Michael B. for living, Lance for looking like me, the list goes on and on. There are about 20 people that I truely, deep down inside, wish never existed and/or wish terrible fates on. This isn’t casual “hate” this is complete and utter hatred. I like to say about Kelly that I “hate her with the fiery passion of a thousand suns” and that the next time I see her, I’m either going to punch her in her good kidney or spit in her face. The violence is just hyperbole, but the hatred is real.
1. I lie. A lot. Like almost all the time. I’m (and I know this sounds like total BS) a recovering compulsive liar. Part of me does it to see if I can get away with it, and part of me does it because I have a semi-legitamit reason to lie. White lies can be seen as excusable, but I have some huge mother-f’ing lies that I’ve kept up over the years. Margaret Cho once said (I’m paraphrasing) that the bigger the lie, the more you protect it. I’m still letting people believe things that I told them years ago. Some of them are horrible, some of them kinda innocent, but all of them lies. I don’t want to go into detail, but if I told you something between 2000 and 2007, it’s most likely false. Lying isn’t recent, either. One day my mother stayed home sick from her volunteer job at my elementary school library and I told everyone she was pregnant and was ordered to stay in bed.
That being said, there are people who are likely to think that one of the most important things in my life never actually happened. I feel like the boy who cried wolf. I did have testicular cancer. That’s not a lie. But I won’t blame you if you don’t trust me, I’ve surely lost any crediblity that I had.
Filed under: "Love" life, Honesty Hour | Tags: commitment phobia, failure, relationships, self fulfilling prophecies
This is Cy. We met online. He lives in San Francisco and I live near Boise, ID. We chatted and chatted and he suggested that I move down to SF with him. Then things started to change. At first I had regarded his suggestion as fantasy, but then I thought that maybe I could go to SF. I started asking questions about logistical moving/living together things and he started to become distant. After a while we stopped talking. It was hard to kinda give up on him, he helped me get through a very difficult time in my life. He inspired me to shave my head, something that I never thought I’d do but am very glad I did. I wish I hated him, it would be it so much easier to see him online and to get over thinking that something wonderful could have happened.
This is Ryann. Yes, two n’s. I also met him online. This time it was differnt. We lives around Boise, too, so we’ve actually met. More than once. And complicated things. Ryann and I are an interesting match. Well, not so much at match. We want differnt things from each other, or rather the same thing (long story). The last time I saw him (3 weeks ago) he was pushing me out the door after a failed attempt to get into my pants (agian, long story). Fate has been keeping us apart (or is it something else?) and we have only been texting short, shallow things back and forth every other day. I’m sure he’s lost interest. I wish I hated him so that I could no be so sad that I haven’t seen him.
I’m being haunted by my cat. She died just before Christmas and now I hear her distinctive meow and feel her get on my bed late at night. I see her out of the corner of my eye every now and again. I swear that I saw her follow me around Barnes and Noble the other day.
Gizzmo was the coolest cat ever. She was a long hair calico with a orange lightning bolt on her forehead. She never really meowed like other cats, she kinda had a breathy “meh”. I could do anything to her, we used to dance and at one time she enjoyed travelling on my head.
The haunting started with a dream about three weeks after she died. In a very vivid dream, I slept in my bed and she walked up my leg and stood on my shoulder as I lay on my side. She bent her head down and meowed in my ear. As soon as I heard that meow, I startled awake. I didn’t go back to sleep that night. I stayed up and watched the snow fall slowly outside my window.
So Gizzmo haunts me, its not malicious, she’s just checking up on me. She’s always there, just a few feet away watching on and every now and again she’ll pop up and make herself known.
After a lenghty hiatus from blogging, I’ve decided to delete everything that I had previously posted and start over. I don’t really have a direction for this but I hope that one will show itself within the next few weeks.
Insomnia For Dummies 