Day 328
So this morning I was online and saw wanted my friend to Skype with me. I sent her a Skype message that basically read, "I am avoiding (insert list of people here) so I am on "Invisible" but I am really here. Skype me!" For a minute I felt bad that I was hiding out on Skype and other chat venues so certain "friends" of mine couldn't contact me with their boring, "Hello." Then I realized two things: 1. Other people probably hide from me on online. And, 2. Why am I friends with these people at all?
This afternoon I went to my favorite library. I tried a different spot than my usual spot. This spot had a good view of all of the creepy old men and an overgrown fat boy who flipped through CDs for over an hour while his butt crack aired out. The best part about my spot though was that it was near the sci-fi section and no one, except a not-creepy girl, came to look at the books near me. Isn't it weird that many people you know like reading sci-fi and yet you never see them actually reading it?
While at the library I read a book of poetry. It was incredibly weird. I AM the type of person who will walk around and judge people for being poets. But today, reading the book that I have to review, I remembered and embraced my inner poet. The kid I grew up being and reveled in the gritty stanzas and Sylvia Plath references. Now all I must do is find the right hook for the review. I was thinking about going the, "Poetry sucks. And, I hate to admit that I like it sometimes, like now." But, that sounds so boring and poetic.
Today I had to get a little witchy with a "friend" of mine. This "friend," whom I haven't seen in months, declined hanging out with me today because she has her period. I wanted to scream at her to take some Midol and suck it up or tell her that being drunk would help. Instead I shot her a snarky text message, "I am busy for the next full week." Tonight I remembered something she had said to me once on a road trip, she said, "You are never scarier than when you have your period or when you are hungry, and now you are both." Guess she hasn't yet seen how scary I can be when you ditch me for a ridiculous reason oh and btw, I can't hang out because I am brushing my teeth.
This afternoon I came home, poured myself a cocktail and took the book I am reading outside to enjoy a nice breeze and the shade. I gulped down my delicious cocktail, turns out that reading a book and drinking don't mix when the book is AMERICAN ON PURPOSE by Craig Ferguson and you are reading the part where he first realizes that he is an alcoholic. I thought about quitting either the book or the cocktail but I am no quitter.
I have an addiction problem and I am willing to take the step right here and now to confront it. Here goes: I am addicted to making afghans. The longest, most boring, pull your hair out and eat it sort of crochet project you can get into. I started a new one tonight that I have fashioned out of a pattern I found online for "gauntlets." No joke. Not only have I read and understood the pattern and it's cryptic: dc, sl, sc, and reps, I have modified it for a blanket. I looked at the top of the pattern to discover that I am now an "intermediate" crocheter. This basically means that I am in a life sentence to create things to give away out of cheap yarn. It is yet to be decided as to if this is a good thing or something that could consumer my entire existence.
So, tonight I found out, via Facebook, that another one of my fellow writing students has become a finalist in a contest that, apparently, many of us entered. Again, I was met with the fact that I wasn't happy for my fellow student. I know there is supposed to be camaraderie and cheering each other on. But, who is gonna lie, it sucks not knowing if you are chosen and with each passing day seeing your friends display their glory makes you want to punch them out not comment them a "Congrats!!!!!." The only consolation is that it is a Canadian contest so if I don't get in I will blame it on them not understanding my American-ness.
Tip of the Day: Jerry Seinfeld isn't really funny at all.
-Canadian Castaway
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