  So, it's been awhile huh? That is an understatement when I stop to respond to all of the nasty emails I got from you people's.
Look, I was just taking some time off! (WINKLES! ) If I haven't written back to you yet, hold up, I will. Gosh, there is so much to cover, I don't know where to start. I guess I should begin with venting...since right now I feel like I am going to rip someone's face off. You know? I just hate having my feathers ruffled so early in the morning. But it does happen and then I get all crazy inside like I wanna kill someone.
There were a total of 3 things that drove me up the fucking wall this morning... I will explain one of them. Kelly has this ex-girlfriend named Angie. Now, Angie and I have been friends for a VERY long time. Years...but after she and Kelly broke up, things got a little more complicated. It was and still is very hard to find the balance to our friendship.
Now, to make things even that much more complicated...she lives with this horrible shit of a guy that I just don't get along with. So, to make a very long story very short...she and I are trying to figure out how to see eachother and hang out while avoiding any of the drama that goes on in our house.
She lives upstairs, I live downstairs. Now, the point at which I got driven up the wall was when I came in this morning and AGAIN I got a somewhat nasty email from Angie explaining that it is basically my duty to visit her in her apartment regardless of my feelings about her roommate. I tried to be polite in my last reply to her, saying that I didn't feel comfortable in her place and that she really should just try to make an effort to come down to our apartment.
She didn't like this idea so much. So, I had to write her AGAIN today and somehow try to squash the pure annoyance that is coursing through my veins. I just don't think she understands...I just plain refuse to be in the same place as him. He is not allowed in my apartment and I don't think that it is appropriate for me to be in his. End of story. If Kelly or Rita wanted this fuck to come down to our place for any reason, then they would be more than fair in making this request.
But I just can't do it and I won't be around if he is. So my dilemma is...how do I get this point across to her without her being made to feel responsible. I don't know. That was the first thing.... After that, the day just seemed to tumble downward into a nasty spiral...work blows, I have no money this week, I have a lot of shit to do, and I miss Paul terribly. The last few weeks were really pretty great. Lots of days off. Lots of time for sleep and movies and food.
I thoroughly enjoyed myself. The highlight of it all had to be the trip to Boston and the visit with Paul over Easter. He was so generous and sweet. As he has been for a good long while. The only problem with it is that I miss him more now than I have in the last couple of months. I also know that I am not going to have a weekend to go to Boston until the end of April and that kind of gets me down.
Just got to push forward until that....maybe he can come soon? Overall, I have been in great spirits these days. I feel very independent and strong. I have been taking good care of myself, getting a little exercise, not masturbating too much, etc. I have been doing some writing of my own and it feels good just to get it out on paper. I am trying to work through a couple minor issues I got goin and doing some private journaling is helping me figure it all out.
Hey, it's what it is there for, right? GOD! IF DORIS THE FUCK DON'T SHUT UP TODAY, I am going to KILL HER! What else? Kelly is almost done with her cigarette smoking habit. Wednesday is her first day of fresh lungs and good smelling clothes. Rita and I, being the lovely housemates we are, are assisting in converting our apartment to inhabit only non-smokers. Well, at least the common living space. Fuck if I don't get to smoke in my own room. It will be kind of funny, actually.
I picture two things: 1) Every time I open my bedroom door, a cloud of smoke will follow me out of my room, somewhat in the style of pigpen from Charlie Brown. I will reek of smoke while everyone else smells pwetty. My breath will be stank and my fingers will be yellow. I suppose I have always had these attributes, but now that our house will be spring fresh, it will be just a little more obvious that I am a smoker.
2) It will be funny that if we do decide to drink in the house or to eat dinner or watch a movie (pretty much every activity that involves remaining in the room other than my bedroom), I am going to have to get up every half hour or so to go to my dinge hole and smoke a butt. LOL. I mean really. I am going to get more exercise smoking now then I ever have before. I guess that's the ropes. Plus, Rita doesn't smoke in her room. So will she be going outside to smoke every cigarette? She can come in my room and have a butt once in awhile. But surely not every smoke. That would make my room just filthy! So this is going to be a trip.
I am real excited for Kelly. I have nothing but love and support for her endeavor. It is true that quitting smoking really starts to get hard once you have done it for awhile. But I do have faith in her to keep it up. And if she just so happens to pick up the habit again, I will be ready to start puffing in that living room like nothing ever changed. If you haven't, see the movie "Joyride". Rita and I watched it last week and it was excellent.
There are so many suspense movies out there and are just not worth it. This one is. Find the time. Also, if you are bored, please feel free to perform this little experiment: This is a toll-free call to Cigna... Dial 1-800-564-8982 Press 2 Press 5228 I laughed. You will laugh. Your mom will laugh. If not, she don't know what funny is. I just found a pimple forming on my forehead. Great. Perfect way for the day to continue. So, I have this admirer...if you check my guestbook, you will see the entry. I think I know who it is, but I definitely could be wrong. I have been emailing some of my readers and a couple of you have said that you didn't write it.
I still have one possible shot at figuring out who this sketch ball is....if it ain't you...I am going to be real excited. Cuz maybe it's an agent asking to promote me. But just in a very creative way. Tomorrow is a new episode of "The Real World". Like I have been saying, if you haven't tuned in yet, be sure to catch an all Real World marathon. MTV plays it just about every weekend and you will love. The people are great. There is only one I hate on the whole show.
His name would be Chris the fag. He is a piece of shit. Don't listen to a word he says and if he tries to tell you that you are "shameful" or "wrong in the way you want to live your life". Tell him to fuck off and offer him a drink. He thinks he's a recovering alcoholic. But really, he's just gay. I split my lip the other day and every time I smile it re-splits. Picture me with blood running down my chin at this very moment.
It looks kind of goth and hot. Yesterday was a good day. I got sufficient sleep, watched a movie in bed, relaxed for a bit and then crawled out of my room at like 4pm. I haven't had one of those days in awhile. Even on days off I am usually awake by noon the latest. No matter what time I went to bed the night before. After getting up, I cleaned the bathroom, cleaned my body, sang for a bit, and ate a wonderful meal prepared by one Miss Rita. The biscuits were just about the best thing that has past through my mouth since the holidays. I ate 5, I think.
Then after that, off to my room to do some more writing and tv watching. It was so good. I felt so rejuvenated this morning and then of course! Shit hole job makes everything fall apart in a matter of minutes. Fucking shit hole job. curse you. Tonight, I am planning on making a nice dinner, doing a little more writing, working on a monologue, and hopefully being in bed before it's too late. I went to sleep much after 2:30am. So maybe this evening I will try to get a sensible night's rest. Okay, I have so much more to say, but it is going to have to wait a bit. I have so much shit to catch up on. Jigga...what's my motha fuckin name? Jigga. 
