waiting for the crew upstairs to finish watching Angel, and I finally
remember to set some time aside to write in here.   hoping I can remember
what I've been meaning to jot down, instead of blabbering about whatever
happens to be on my mind.  (currently:  Buffy vs. Angel, and why the
former rules and the latter sucks)

I'm not sure I even finished writing down everything I felt about the
Irish trip, which is a real shame.  I must get in the habit of doing that
sort of thing when it's fresh in my mind.  Justin's good at it; even at
work, whenever something happens he wants to jot down, his headphones go
on and he can't be disturbed until he gets it in there.  He tried to get
my story out of me first thing when I got back, but I was too sick and
tired at the time to want anything but to go home and sleep.  

anyhow, I was (cheated: I looked) writing about how Gill's closed-off-ness
should have set off warning bells in my head.  I know quite well now that
I have big issues with girls who can't reveal themselves to me, at least
in large part.  not that they need  divulge all at first go, but I think
Gill and I have been friends for quite some time, and if she still thinks
so highly of me (as she told me), she should trust me with the
information.  but I don't think it was a matter of trust with her, it was
a matter of comfort level.  equally frustrating.  not only was my talking
about myself and my private affairs one-sided, but often it felt like we
were talking on two different levels - over each other's heads, almost,
making the conversations we had, serious ones anyhow, (if you could call
them that) run around in circles.  which was a very frustrating part of
the trip.

i don't know if I have the desire or energy to write down for posterity
exactly what transpired on the trip, since I already vented by telling
Claudine all about it.  I sit here and wonderf if I'll be sorry in the
future if I've forgotten it, but I feel like the above, the communication
difficulty and its resultant headadches, are what really bugged me about
the trip.  or maybe I'm just lazy.  

DEFINITELY I'm lazy.  I'm getting way fat (a belt size bigger in the last
few months.  ugh).  I guess I have done calisthenics at work the last
couple sessions, although I see myself looking for excuses to make to
myself why I can shrug it off.  I so want to lose weight and get in shape,
I just don't want to do any of hte monotonous fofod-watching and exercise
that go with it.  so-long, teenage metabolism, I guess.  or maybe it's
just the job that involves nothing but sitting on my fat ass every day,
plus the recent acquisition of a car.  I used to have to walk at least a
bit every day - now, it's a universe of sitting and lying down.  I suppose
complete lack of motivation doesn't help either.  been way down, really.
there's nothing I want to live for.  I'm beginning to hate my job, I hate
the way I look, I'm always bored in my free time, I'm in a seemingly
endless cycle of debt and not having any money to even do stupid shit I
should be able to do like fucking pay parking tickets.  I just fucking
hate everything and everybody and I wish it would all go away and


nothing seems to kill me
no matter how hard i try


can't get a new job cos I never finished college and i have no
qualifications.  can't get a new body because I'm lazy.  can't get enough
money because I'm so far in debt an d make so little money.  constantly
down about my lack of relationship.
i realized on the way home from ireland while I was thinking about
relationships and how fucked up mine always seemed to be that I havne't
had meaningful sex, or even a meaningful relationship, in two and a half
yearfs.  if I've ever had one.  sometimes I wonder.

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

and the only thing that stops me when i think about throwing it all away
is the disapproving attitude my friends would all cop.  because you CAN'T
tell someone - "well, I guess you're right, you don't have much to live
for.  I mean, hey, nothing seems to make you happy, and you've tried for a
while.  guess it's time to call it quits! "  

because that's 'not ok.'  
and of course they probably don't see it that way.  i suppose i should be
flattered that multiple people probably care.  but i'm not, really.
because they can't care that much.  because they don't brighten my life
that much.  if they're of questionable import, inspiration, interest to me
- what can I be to them but another smuck?  

pointless whining, this has degenerated into.

song I want to include is a depressing David Gray tune which I picked up
in Ireland (he's Irish, or so Gill claims - definitely an import were I to
buy the CD here)

[this year's love]