I was thinking about "Dead Souls" recently, and contemplating whether I liked the Joy Division or the NIN version more, and I realized that I prefer the NIN version for one very specific reason. When I listen to JD's version, and really JD in general, it just feels flat, in a way. I love Joy Division, but listening to Ian Curtis is an odd experience. He died, many moons ago, but when I hear him sing, he sounds like he was already dead. Defeated, and lifeless.

Trent Reznor, on the other hand, usually sounds to me as though he's currently dying, slowly and painfully. At the time that I listened to NIN, many moons ago, I could really relate to that. And let's face it, some days I still can. He sounds like a man who's having his soul ripped out through his nose, and that it sure as hell is not the first time. The whole Pretty Hate Machine and Broken albums remind me that people suck, and that they're waiting for you to trust them, so that they can rip your beating heart out of your chest, and serve it with some fava beans, and a nice chianti.

So who is the bigger fool? Curtis, Reznor, or me?

So I've decided to try to regularly upkeep the blog again. May happen, may not. So much has happened that I am not even sure where to start, so to sum up:

I made the right decision, and though it made me happier, I'm not exactly happy enough. I'm not miserable, but I hate that I spend so much time thinking about someone who is a complete jerkface.

Work is going great, but it's not exactly where I want it to be.

I'm not in a rut, but I'm not exactly on the path, either.

It's like I'm in limbo, but I really just want to follow my bliss. Except that I am not exactly sure where my bliss might be.

Here's what I know:

My brain definitely has the right ideas most of the time, but my heart refuses to cooperate. Following my heart isn't a good option, because my heart is fucking DUMB. Following my brain hasn't worked, because my heart's not in it.

What's a girl to do?

Oh yeah. I almost forgot.

Well today is the suck.

I am still arguing with HP about what 2-business day shipping actually means. This should be self-explanatory, no? Cute pink netbook ships 7/22 from China. Even w/ a time zone difference, I can't see any reason that it wouldn't arrive by 7/27 at the latest. Shifty bastards. I knew I should have just bought another fucking Mac. Why can't Stevie Jobs just make a fucking mini/ultra portable? The air isn't good enough.

I don't see why I should have to spend money on a dress, shoes, purse, gift, bachelorette party, and other miscellaneous items that aren't even the fucking responsibility of the bridal party, for a person who doesn't even give me the time of day and blows me off at the last minute when we have plans. 3 friends blown off by them within one week's time. Nice.

I don't understand why I am being put off until Tuesday when Philly is an hour and a quarter away. I don't understand why I can't get a phone call, or useful answers to my text messages, either.

It's pretty fucking sad when the thing going best in your life is your work. It probably means that you need a new fucking life, or new people in the one you've already got.

Hey Manitoba, how much did you have to pay L'Ecuyer to conveniently overlook every hold, hook, and blatant interference?

Hey L'Ecuyer, did your Mom teach you to suck like that?

FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK YOU!


Hershey Bears FTW!!!!! Woooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!

I hate my job.

I miss my stupid boyfriend.

I wanted a good, stable job, and now I have it. I wanted a boyfriend, so I wouldn't be alone anymore, and I have him.

I must be some kind of ungrateful bitch because I just can't get happy no matter what I do.

I can't stand myself when I am emo. Ugh.

I sorta feel like nothing is going right. Work is awful and I don't even want to go. It will pass, but right at this particular moment, I am strongly regretting my decision to forego the opportunity to be a knocked up housewife. I'm pretty sure that the only things getting me out of bed and dressed for work each day are: habit and the fear of foreclosure on my house. I feel even worse because I should be happy just to have a job, during these times when so many people do not, and the guilt over being ungrateful isn't helping.

I feel torn between two people that I really care about and I just want them both to be happy. I can't fix things, though, and that sucks because I sincerely wish that I could.

I want to go out and do something, anything, that does not involve drinking because I really don't feel that booze is going to make things better. Quite the opposite. But what else is there to do?

Shannon is a billion million miles away and while I didn't expect it to be easy, I didn't expect it to suck quite this badly. I am not entirely sure that I can take four more weeks of this.

And on top of the above fun times, I have major PMS and I feel like crying. But I don't want to cry because I hate crying. It's wet and snotty and gross and it's an unpleasant habit. I think I'm also a little scared that if I start, I may not be able to stop.

I'm kind of a useless mess.

I am going to have an awesome day. After that, I am going to have a super weekend, complete with hockey and tetris. This will all result in me having a fucking amazing week. After which, I will move right into having a fucking blast next week. And so on, and such.

You know where to find me if you want to get in on this shit!

I am a nerd. :)

Look @ this!

http://villageofjoy.com/amazing-eye-macros-23-pictures/

Renee has reminded me again that I have been a lazy fucking fuck with the blog lately. My bad. I should probably be spanked or something.

I've just been busy with work, which is going well. And I've been busy swapping between contentment and happiness. Very recently it's been more happy than content. Who can argue with that? I think that maybe it's my time to get it right.

Spring is about to pounce and I just can't fucking wait. The only good thing about winter is hockey, and while I am always sad to see the season end, spring brings the playoffs, and things are looking good there.

Living in the city, but just outside of downtown was one of the best choices I've made. I live in a perfect place. I am 1/2 block from Italian Lake. If you've never seen it wake up from the winter, you don't know what you're missing. I swear I see the pups smiling when we go for walks outside in the spring when it's cool, but the sun is shining. I haven't yet seen the park shark, but I am sure he's there and that I'll catch a glimpse soon.

I can't wait to get the schedule for the summer concert series. Wine, picnic baskets, and music. It'll soon be time for Shakespeare in the Park over @ Reservoir. There's just always something happening. I can't wait to start planning barbecues. My yard will be THE place to hang out this summer, guaranteed. Beer, Mojitos, hamburgers, hotdogs, and card games.

I am never filled with as much optimism, energy, and motivation as I am in the spring. I have often used my blog to vent or get things off my chest, but the one thing bugging me right now just seems to be getting less and less important.

I just want to have FUN.

There are medications which numb the feelings, correct? Make one zombie-esque. Oblivious to the hang ups of the human race. This is what I need. Or 10 grand in therapy. And the meds are probably cheaper with a prescription plan.

No matter what I do and what friends I make, I cannot escape people who stand me up/cancel on me at the last minute. And I hate it because it hurts. It makes me feel bad every single time.

Are there people who don't do this kind of thing? Are they geographically concentrated? Where?

I might consider moving. I am starting to believe that there's either something very wrong with me, or very wrong with the people in this area of the world. So aside from becoming completely anti-social, I don't know what to do. Oh yeah, the meds.

So there ya go, Renee nee. I think you asked me to write at a bad time.