My Blood Is Boiling

This has been probably the worst weekend I've had in a few months. By far. Actually, we could probably limit it to the last day and a half. Friday wasn't too terrible. My morning wasn't too bad because I went bowling and scored a 165 in my first game, a feat I had never accomplished. I knocked four strikes and three spares in my first game, leaving only two pins up in my third frame, five up in my seventh frame, and six in my last frame. My second two were kinda sucky, only 95 and 72 respectively. I still have yet to buy my shoes, but I'll work on that. I won't go bowling again probably until Tuesday and then Thursday night.

Speaking of Thursday nights, that ship has decided not to set sail. I dunno, I suppose it could have been worse, but I think I jumped the gun on a lot of things. Neither one of us was really ready, so I guess it's back to same old same old me. That's okay, I could use the extra sixty-ish bucks a week. Plus, my unhappy dark side gets to win one more battle.

That probably triggered my bad weekend, was realizing I've been too emotionally involved without using my brain. I normally pride myself on the opposite response. When I'm normal, it's very difficult to gauge my emotions on any issue (well, perhaps except sweet tea, which causes all kinds of anger to boil), because I am so analytical that the only thing that really guides my decisions is logic and reason. It wasn't so much the rejection, as I've sort of gotten used to it, such that I'm like a dog on my back. It sucks to be rejected so much, but I've learned that rejection is kind of the bedmate that I've never really seen was always there.

That made my work shift that night difficult, as I couldn't talk well to customers. I also had a hard time focusing on my homeland defense paper I was trying to finish (and finally did), and it was really hard for me to work on Greek for some reason. Greek and Latin normally are my really easy languages to work on, because you sort of live in your own world, as it's not a language with which one uses for communication.

Last night, I could not fall asleep, so I did what I frequently do, which is to go through all the things I have and ask myself "do I really need/want this?" and normally I get rid of about 10% of what I have each time I go through one of those. I've realized too that I do it because I figure if I clean up my messy environment, I might be able to clean up my messy mind.

So today comes around and it's the first Sunday in about two months that I have the morning off (more on that later), but anyways, I make the effort to go to church, and I normally have always stood in the back, because I thought I wanted to avoid being next to other people for health reasons. When I was there today, I really felt that the reason I wanted to stand in the back was because I knew I didn't belong with those people, I was an outsider, some kind of contagion to the pristine world order. What's odd is that these last couple of months have brought me back to a lot of the saints and the Virgin (I'm still having a hard time with the big man, especially considering his UTTER lack of humanity and the ability to empathize with what I'm going through---plus I think he's delibrately torturing me). I mean, I really want to embrace the old-fashioned traditional Catholicism in hippy-Jesusville. I don't partake of sacraments for multiple reasons (I don't think that select males should have the right to have control of divine intervention with man, and frankly, I don't think I should receive them as a part of my life's goal of self-loathing).

I don't belong in that other place either. I'm not a part of the rainbow coalition. I really have no interest in being a part of the 'gay community', since pretty much all of them are just a bunch of bitching fags (says the fag bitching on this blog...) who want to go to Wicked and sing in a choir and then have meaningless sex. Then we go for drinks (fruity girly drinks, not an actual beer) and shoe for designer clothes while we forget that while we're doing all of that there are people for whom some good can be done. Those are people who are comfortable with whom they are, and I'm not that. I always knew I was different, and it was something I took pride in. As 14 and 15 rolled around, there was literally no development, and I thought "finally, here's why, I'm different from EVERYONE" I really liked the idea of being asexual because it made me less human. It made me less vulnerable.

16 was kind of a turning point for me, and I hated it. Suppression was possible thanks to IB and the sheer volume of what I had to do. It's a huge part of the reason why I decided to take 28 hours a semester, because between that and working, you can go ahead and say that you are asexual because you have literally no energy to contribute towards even THINKING about anything else. I miss those times.

But anyways, pretty much everyone who knows has been going and saying "I know this gay person or these lesbians or whatever" and then they go "you should meet". Ok. This actually is really irritating. I mean, I know single moms. Should I have them meet and 'support' each other because they're single moms? no. Should I introduce two seperate friends together because they're black? How about if you're both girls? Vaginas unite! By the way, I know three girls whose names are some spelling variation of Christina (Kristina, Cristina, whatever). Maybe I should introduce all of them to each other because it's so different having the name Christina.

The fact of the matter is that I don't care how many gay friends any of my friends have, I don't want to meet them. I don't really care. You can be friends with Elton John all you want, I don't really want to meet him just because he's gay. I don't need a fag support group. I don't need gay counseling. I don't go to pride parades because I don't think there's any reason to be proud of being gay. You should be proud because of the actions that you do and the constructiveness of your moral character, not which hole you prefer to fuck (or have fucked). I can proudly say that I'm not proud of being gay. Quite the opposite, really, because it's detracted so much from a very possibly productive life and a better lived one.

Basically, please don't sick gay friends on me. I have enough fags (me) in my life as it is.

Anyways, getting back to my sucky weekend, I drive to work today in the pouring rain, Union is TOTALLY flooded. I get there at 2:45, for my 3:30-8:30 shift. Turns out I was supposed to be there at 8 AM today. Fortunately, they didn't hate me too much, and they understood that I thought I was supposed to be there at 3:30. Consdiering I drove 25 miles in driving rain for no reason, they forgave me.

The only really good thing that has happened is that I've finished my homeland defense final, and it looks like I'm going to get around a 96% on it, which makes up for my disaster of a test last time, and which also means that I only need like a 75% on my paper to get an A. I've had two papers with grades less than that in my LIFE, once in 11th grade and once in 7th grade. I don't think there's much concern here.

Tomorrow my family and I are riding a train in Leadville (not my first idea of fun on my only day off this week....), and then Tuesday=HUGE finish day as I finish accounting forever!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Furthermore, I intend (ev vw exw==closest thing to Greek I can do) to get as close to done on Cicero and my Greek for the month as possible while finishing my application for my second job. I'm really going to need my two days of total solitude next week.