Not just my thoughts for the moment, but my thoughts for the last, well,
four days.  Days that encompass the Thanksgiving holiday in its entirety,
save for these last few hours of 'holiday,' which I'm spending at work
anyhow.  Perhaps I'll leave in a bit and go see John and Dan - for the
first time in ages.  Ages being about two or three weeks.  I got severely
burnt out on seeing them both all the time as my sole source of social
activity; soon after that, things switched over into high gear at gamers,
and I was working 12-16 hours a day for over a week.  The sudden
dissapearance of that office-centric life, actually, was part of a number
of factors that contributed to me having a really crappy week.  All of a
sudden, I didn't have work to do; I was *supposed* to take a vacation,
and I realized I didn't know how.  I had no friends to spend time with,
nothing to do with my time.  That was quite a slap in the face.
Combining that with my dire financial situation and my coming down off
Zoloft, i was in an extremely and unusually depressed state for the
entire weekend.  err, holiday.  whatever.

went home on thursday afternoon.  went to tower beforehand, only to
realize Iafter getting to the counter I hadn't the money to procure my
purchases-to-be.  embaarrased and frustrated, I went home, only to find
nobody there.  putting two and two together, I figureed out that my pop
and bro had gone out to see a film so I began to wait.  after about two
and a half hours of alternately pacing nervously, sleeping on the couch,
wand generally being a nervous wereck about my finances, I gve up and did
what I'd been tempted to do all along; wrote a note saying that I was in
no mood for the facade of thanksgiving, and was going home to be alone.
was very hard for me to do, I suppose because I felt tso bae about
running out.  turned up nirvana on the stereo and headed out.  ten or
fifteen minutes down the freeway, my phone buzzed.  missed the call, but
checked the message; was, as expected, dad.  sounded quite concerned.  i
listened to it  second time, to catch the last, mumbled phrase, after he
said 'call back.'  it was, as I thought, "any time"  I broke down crying
on the road, and had to pull off so I didn't crash into something or
someone.  after ten minutes or so of sitting in the parking lot of some
random hotel, I got up the nerve and (what I thought was) the coherence
to call.  as soon as I samanaged to squak out a 'hi', I broke down into
blubbering.  he convinced me (rather, asked) to come home.  I managed to
grunt out a reply in the affirmative, and after a few awkward spauses,
and another ten minutes of trying to gather my wits, I was off.  there
were two songs, during the journey, that I heard more than once, and
which never failed to start me crying again; probably more than I usually
cry in several years, all in that night.  one song because I identified
with (or twisted the words until they made sense to me), the other
because it was incredibly comforting in a very depressing way, and I let
it be sung as if it was both by myself and to myself at the same time,
though mutually exclusive.  the first reminded me of G, the seocnd of
myself.  the first, 
Nirvana's
[lounge act]

second was
Alanis Morissette's
[joining you]


went home, had a nonstandard thanksgiving dinner (no turkey; potatoes and
vegetables), watched the sequel to Chinatown, went to bed.
got up the next day, went to a very forced family get together with mom
and bro.  Meeting her 'uncle' (one year older), his wife, their kids (his
by two differnet marriages), and eldest girl's husband and kids.  one of
the uncle's kids was my age; a sophmore at Northwestern.  getting close
to time to leave, my mom whisper-suggested to me that Anna, the college
gal, might want to spend time with someone in her own age group.  I was
appalled that my mom was trying to set me up (in a strictly social sense,
but still) with my cousin, and yet, I didn't quite stop her when she
asked (in my behalf).  just pretended to ignore.  I should never have let
myself be put in that position, but I think some part of me was hoping
against hope that the girl would want to spend time with me, just so I'd
have something to do with someone my own age.  bad idea, of course.  she
oh-so-politely declined in a "I wouldn't be caught dead" sort of fashion.
and I went home humiliated and disgusted with myself for not having
stopped it.  flew the coop right after that, headed back to El Cerrito.
slept on the couch for hours, ran into Steve.  we went and got burgers,
then tried to see a movie at an immensely overpopulated Jack London
Square.  rented something instead at Reel, Home Of That Cute Employee I
Miserably Failed to Hit On when I was there with John and Dan.  they were
giving me a good-natured ribbing about my halfhearted and ultimately flat
attempts to strike up a conversation with her while she rang up our
rentals and opened an account for Dan.  
steve and i got bull durham and scent of awoman and went home.  she was
working there, but we didn't end up in her line.  watched the bulk of
Bull Durham, got bored, went to bed at 9.  three days in a row now I've
exercised a bit before going to bed, a knee-jerk reaction to not only
feeling fat, looking fat, knowing my belt was tighter, but having my own
father exclaim at how much poundage I'd put on.  that's what lack of
doing anything but sitting in front of a computer and sleeping will do to
you.  hope I have the resolve to stay with . . . well, who am I kidding,
I just hope it works and I'm not this fat anymore, or at least for my
trip to Ireland.  the only thing in my pathetic existance I look forward
to.
blah
blah
blah
not in the right situation to do much of a brain dump (at work, lights
on, co-workers here, too many distratcions) so this ends