innocent bystander //a weblog
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my bitch friend called me last night out of nowhere. she wanted to know if i wanted to go have dinner at her apartment. i don't understand what she thinks is happening between us...? after what she'd said to me, i would rather not have heard from her for a while. |
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yaknow it's funny, i don't mind not being awake during the day. lately i've been sleeping at, well, right around now, and waking up at 2 or 3. it's not so bad. right around this time in the morning i get the giddy feeling that i've accomplished something forbidden by staying up all night. then i sleep right through the day and avoid all that pressure to get things done while the sun's out.
even the recreational activities people have been urging me to do feel like pressure to me. never mind "search for a job", or "call joe recruiter", but "you should go to the beach"? "you should have fun"? (note: how am i supposed to have FUN when i'm living off CREDIT CARDS?) "you should do some traveling"? too much pressure! if i sleep through all my opportunity to do any of that, then my options are more manageable, like "rent a video", "walk to vons", "walk to ralphs if it's past 1 am and vons is closed", "try to find a coffeehouse that's still open" (a tall order if it's past 11 pm in l.a.). "see if you can make it to borders before it closes at 11 pm." and then i can work on my web page or resume or search monster.com and answer my emails at my leisure. i can handle it. it's really pretty nice.
besides, i hate sitting down to my computer during the day. some part of me keeps yelling "go outside! go shopping! hang out at the beach NOW!" and the other part of me screams "get on the net! check your email for recruiters! check monster, then hotjobs, then headhunter.net, you have to!!" ugh. argh! fuck!(*) |
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been surfing blogs. off weblogs.com. 99% of blogs are made by design hounds... everything looks great, but where's the content? arrrgh. |
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people make my head throb. a white australian emailed my match.com account just now. he said:
"wow, i love asia too!"
and my favorite:
sigh. i rolled around all these possible responses to his email. how to explain that i'm not a one-dimensional asia artifact? how to show him that he shouldn't assume? but really i would just be playing his game. people like these... don't care about what you have to say. they only care about what they have to say. curse orientalism for giving them a lot to say about my home continent. |
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hi there, hello, hello.
i hope the fevered rantings i've posted lately haven't been too trying. my mind's been fevered lately. it's been running in overdrive.
so i haven't read slashdot in a while, and hadn't really thought about it, but it seemed like i was seeing the comments of a same group of people over and over again, and everything was a little too stridently pro-linux. today i found a guy who thinks that what's going on is much more (and reading his analysis, i have to agree):
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i feel silly and immature. i left my parent's house in a hurry today, and almost in tears, because nobody had spoken to me the entire day. i was in an enormous amount of pain, i couldn't stop being sweaty and feverish, and my two sisters kept yapping at high volume and wouldn't shut up, and somebody's friend was over who was yapping and really, really couldn't shut up, especially in the case where, early in the morning, she told me, "wow, now you really look like shit!" fuck(*) her! who's the one that's, like, 100 pounds overweight? not me! try that for looking like shit! and my mom was running in and out of rooms putting dye in her hair, and everyone was having a DANDY old time except me, who if anyone had bothered to notice, was shivering and whimpering on the sofa. in sweats. in 95-degree heat. i haven't been able to tell the weather for days. has it been hot? cold? mild? i couldn't have told you to save my life.
somebody tell my why i feel silly and immature again? fuck!(*) i couldn't even get any quiet while i slowly rotted away on that fucking,(*) trashed sofa. and i get back to my apartment and there's a voice mail, but i'm not checking it! i don't care if it's my mom trying to figure out if i made it back okay, because hey! she sure didn't care earlier when i was about to drop dead on the sofa. she can just bite her nails until morning; i'll check that voice mail when i fucking(*) well feel like it.
* sorry, i can't help using that word! not since seeing apocalypse now redux. |
This is my blogchalk:
United States, California, Alhambra, English, Chinese, Jean, Female, 26-30,
current events, books, music, movies, technology, being a g.d. mac user.