2004-09-15 - 7:27 p.m.

What's with all these mysterious phone #'s calling me? Why do these strange people want to talk to me? Who am I to them? Do they know that I peed in the woods? Hmmmm - now they know.

Had fun in Boston last night - though I had the guest list wrong, replace "Alex & Keith" with "Jimbo's friend Dave" and the rest is the same. I'd comment on the whole reason we were in Boston but I'm still sick to my stomach about the whole fucking ridiculous business, so I shall cease speaking of it . . . now.

Still without a vehicle. How the fuck did I go with no car for so god damned long? Seriously? Oh yeah - the bus. But still. Now that I don't have a car I keep thinking shit like, "I could be at the store. Right now. Buying . . . gum. Or some . . . lightbulbs." See all the things I'm missing out on? Do you?!

Nanny is convinced her cancer is in remission and that she's coming home from Hospice House and isn't taking no for an answer. Yeah. This isn't a horribly awkward/painful/difficult situation to have to deal with. I'm annoyed enough that I can't go visit her (no car, remember?), but I suppose that if the rest of my cousins can feel fine about never going to see her it shouldn't bother me, right? Right? Yeah - no help there. And what am I supposed to say, "No, Nanny. You're not getting better. You won't be getting better. You can't go back to living alone at your house and driving your car. But hey - stay positive!" Yeah. Won't be saying that anytime soon.

Shannon's wedding is this Saturday and I couldn't be more woefully underprepared. Can't find the right clothes. Our sleeping arrangements have changed roughly 17 times in the last week, with the present plan being that we sleep on inner tubes in the water behind the Margate. And I'm so incredibly fucking broke that I haven't found them a present yet. And yes people, I KNOW - It is acceptable to wait a full YEAR. If one more person tells me that I'm gonna punch them in the fucking ear. Oh really, it's acceptable? Jeeze. I guess now I don't need to write to Emily Post for advice. Now if only I knew what fork to eat my salad with . . .

Jeeze. I'm not riled up or anything. It's these little things that should have no importance you know? A concert plan here. A 7th Inning Stretch there. A neglected invite here. An unanswered telephone call there. It's killing me. And as usual, I sit here making pretend it's fine. So not to rock the boat. I'm serious - I'm moving to South America where there be no boats that I can rock. I hate this. I hate this I hate this I hate this. And you know that I hate it. And I know the less I talk about it and the less we bring it up the faster it'll go away. But I'm getting out of the shower and it's there. And I'm checking the mail and it's there. And I'm doing an inventory and it's there. And I'm trying to fall asleep and it's there. It will be fine. It's just not yet. And I don't know when it will be. Just that it will. I'm sorry to keep doing this. It's just the little things. But even now - I'm just trying to write an entry . . . and it's there.

So we're throwing a party for Jimbo on Friday night here at Casa de Kenichi. Not gonna be too big of a to-do. But should be fun. If people actually show. But hell, even if it's just Ben, Peter, Jimbo & me - I'll have fun. That's enough people for beirut. And we know Hayley won't come since she only plays beirut (with O'Douls mind you) at the Gables. And church.

Want to get Pixies tickets for December, but seeing as I can't even afford comics or a grilled cheese right now, I don't see how that's gonna happen. Rick told me the other day that we're getting old. I didn't believe him. But I suppose he's right. He's right about most things.

New Reno is on tonight but that doesn't cheer me up as much as it should. When you drive into the mall now, the big sign that welcomes you says, "Rocky Mountain Chocolate Factory is the Answer!" Creepy. I not like mall signs reading me thoughts. Aly and I ran across Secret Crush's boyfriend the other day (he of the "R.M.C.F.S.C.B.F." domino). It appears he shaved his sideburns. He was all skulking about waiting for S.C. to get out of work. God, give her some space man. Let her breathe a bit. How am I supposed to let her break my heart if you don't break up with her first? Jeeze - give a guy a break.

I hate this.

It's been real,

Ludo

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