lillian m. blakey moon_window




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Sunlight on Earth

� Copyright 2006-2012
Monday, Jul. 28, 2008 - 2:45 am

=*=



It�s late. I�m kind of tearing up a bit. I�m not sure why exactly, other than realizing re-realizing how lonely I am here and how low I�ll go to avoid feeling that again. Being alone is in fact my biggest fear. But my only other alternative (talking to creeps who can�t comprehend treating me well) makes me feel pretty bad too. Anyway�

I finally formatted my laptop. None of the previous owners crap is stalling it up now, and it�s running much better except for some faulty configurations that keep resetting themselves, the talking paperclip that doesn�t disappear in Word, even though he has been told to hide, the internet software telling me that my wi-fi card is not WPA, when it is, and then connecting out of the blue when it decides to, that and my Internet Security Suite scanning for viruses and slowing my whole system down once an hour�okay, and the fact that I have a hard time typing on this thing because I�m not used to the small often doubled up keys. But since it only has a 9.5� wide-screen, something must be sacrificed. I had to put a star sticker on the tiny right shift key so I�d aim for it instead of its neighbor � the up key. That has been pissing me off for a while � Intending to have a temporary caps key sending me, instead, half up my page.

That is something Sylivia Plath never had to contend with.

Now that I�m done, I can start really writing. I prefer to write in the safety of my bed, in between numerous pillows and with the window very open beside my bed.

It�s been a while since I updated, and I�m not quite sure what I said last.

I think I left off on Thursday�s events and/or thoughts.

I�ve had some interesting events in my dreams the past few days.

Friday, I was living back at the house I became agoraphobic in, and the lil black cat, and only friend my entire teen years, Tommy, was happy to see me, and I cried cause I missed him so much. I introduced him to Shadow, and it felt weird to be there again.

Saturday, I had a dream that I was living in a mansion that had been converted to apartments. And down the street was an enormous warehouse. There was a tiny pet and gift shop inside that warehouse. I looked at the natural stone and gem jewelry, but it was really expensive. There was the smell of donuts everywhere. (maybe I was in Canada ;-)) And I came to the pets, they had fish, birds, etc, and there were baby turtles. I wanted one but thought by mom would kill me, so I settled on snails. I figured that my cat would not get them if they were in a tank with plants. So I asked the guy for two males or two females, and he tried to pick ones he thought were two of the same gender and promised to take any babies if they turned out otherwise. (The only thing is, aren�t all/most snails both genders? Or was that some type of worm, I can�t remember, anyway�) So I was proud of my new pet snails and walked a lot trying to find my apartment in that mansion.

Sunday, hmm, I suddenly don�t remember it. Oh well, if I remember it and it if it was good I�ll tell. I�m sure it involved Josh or something.

Friday, I shaved my legs just to go to the re-certification to renew the lease and once dry I got dressed. We grabbed everything we needed and ran out the door. When we got to the office � the manager�s door was locked, lights were off, and no one was anywhere. This woman was gone all day on Wednesday, left to go to a concert at 11 am on Thursday, and skipped out on us without calling on Friday. I swear our new apartment manager only works two weeks per month and is gone the other half of it just screwing around. And she refuses to hire an assistant. She is he worst apartment manger I�ve ever had. At least the previous worse one in my old apartment was actually around to harass us and others to remove the potting soil from the porch. So, needless to say me and my stubble free legs were really pissed that she did this. It is the second time she was not there to renew our lease, and time is running out. I don�t even know who her boss is; it�s supposedly private information. If she doesn�t do her job soon, I may be homeless by November. It�s not fun being so agoraphobic and not having a home.

I have gotten to talk to Josh each day since Friday, and that has been really nice. The only thing that is sort of bumming me out is that he may leave again at any time, and he may be without high speed internet. We�ll be back to the old �tumble typing� followed by make-up-typing, I�m sure. It�s a long story�

On Friday, W signed on and asked me when I needed the letter by. I told him the director actually had wanted it by �today�. He apologized and said he�d have it for me very soon. I haven�t heard from him since, but I�m sure his guy friends have seen him more than once since then�

I haven�t replied to the student president either. He wrote back a fully misspelled and grammatically incorrect reply. The reason he says he�ll write the letter for me (if I help him, of course) is because, something like, he believes in my power as a person. I think he may have tried to call me, but since I never saved his numbers in my phone (for a good reason), I�m not sure it was him.

I�m not feeling too good about this week. My mom has to try to get a hold of the food stamp workers who never reply and never do their jobs. We have to hope the apartment manager does her job at all this week. And I have a care coordinator I haven�t written of because she is really not doing her job either, and the combination of this is stressful.

My mom played Sudoku all day to keep her mind off of it, and I uploaded or downloaded software to my laptop and wanted to hit it occasionally when it froze, malfunctioned or did anything to prove that Bill Gates is Satan, which he is.

Segue

And the maker of my English textbook is also�

When P took English 111, the school used The Bedford Reader, which is at least an essay book on a wide variety of topics. The New World Reader, on the other hand, is all about depressing things I could use and an excuse to kill myself, because I can�t do anything about any of it: AIDS in Africa, the wars, GW Bush, how tribal people are supposedly seen as weird in our �better� Western civilization, how America is better than terrorist nations � whatever those are, The Middle East, environmental catastrophe, famine, human rights violations, how women in foreign countries are abused in ways that they NEVER are in the good ol USA. Ahem�and then of course the entire world should feel as devastated and outraged about 9/11 as the people in NYC that day, and if they don�t � they�re terrorists. This book is going to kill me; it�s full of stereotypes good and bad, equally. And if anyone in class is stupid about this stuff, I�m going to get �em�The �terrorists� died on the planes, Osama Bin Laden was turning yellow from his liver disease in 2001 and is most likely dead, and they were all extremists � most people in this world aren�t. And people living in what used to be Baghdad did not live in caves, as Mr. Bush said more than once. And Osama Bin Laden and Saddam Hussein were enemies, because Bin Laden was a religious nut and Saddam was not and he seriously didn�t like him either, so why would he be involved in any plot with him? And I knew this all before the �axis of evil� was announced�See I�m already starting�moving on before they put my name on the terrorist list.

Ugh. 16 weeks of this is all.

And then in Spring I potentially get to analyze Shelley, and Tolstoy, and Shakespeare�civilized, thoughtful, intelligent stuff.

But for now, I�m stressing out over everything and everyone all over again.

Better entry soon, I�m sure.

~e

add to my pissy Bill-Gates is Satan complaints that this text box is horribly small and 4 attempts to make it bigger did nothing which means my telling this thing to accept cookies, didn't work...this week will be over in 7 days...


=*= one day i'll fly away =*=

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