Tuesday, March 15, 2005

Life imitates art

I previously mentioned life imitating art when I remarked that my sitemeter stats had yet to record anyone searching for something sexual and finding me. That has since been remedied (Shout out to all you freaky Pakistanis) though the majority of searches remain along the lines of "Another word for kneecap". Such is my lot in life. A friend of mine used to joke that he wasn't hetero-, homo-, or even bi-sexual. He said he was just asexual. To which I would reply, "You're not a sexual anything." This time however, life imitating art refers to the equivalent of actual hate mail. Yesterday's entry about hate mail was obviously just a joke. One or two of you get a little over-excited if I don't write something regularly, but I know it's because you want me to write more, not less. I had to fight with two different people today, and all evidence to the contrary, I'm a lover not a fighter.

The first fight was with my sister who called to complain that we stayed at the livestock show longer than she thought we would. My sister is overwhelmed by her two boys and her current pregnancy. My take is, if you can't handle the two you've got, why are you making more of them? But in general I keep that opinion to myself. She is all too happy to have other people take her boys for the afternoon and my mother happily obliges. In fact, my sister would be screwed if my mother wasn't there to bail her out. Well, we weren't gone that much longer than planned but my sister got worried when nobody returned when she thought. When she finally called me, about an hour after I got home, she told me how worried she had been. I said something about not being all that late and nobody thought she'd be worried because she's usually trying to get rid of the boys. She let me have it for that, and went so far as to criticize me for not calling her on other occasions to volunteer to take care of her boys. In case you missed the significance of that, I'm the asshole for not taking care of her responsibilities. I let it go, since there's no arguing with a pregnant woman and if I aggravate the situation she'll just call our Dad and have him chew me out.

The second fight was with my best friend, with whom I hadn't talked in almost a week. She's been a little snippy about that since we usually talk every day, but she's been too busy with her own life once or twice to stop and talk to me. It happens, it's not personal. I was telling her what's been going on lately when she cut me off to insult me. I was in the middle of my story, building up to the really good part, but she'd already decided how it was going to turn out so she passed judgement. Yes, I too thought she might be kidding and asked her to explain, but no. That's where I hung up.

I don't need this kind of shit from my best friend or my family. I don't know any of my regular commenters and I wouldn't recognize you if I passed you on the street. You're better people than those who do know me. How sad is it that my pretend life really is better than my real life?

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