Oh for the love of FUCK

(April 29, 2007)

I just spent like two hours working on...now don't laugh and roll your eyes...I was working on a re-design of, um, a Diaryland diary. Yes, that's what I said. I know, I sat here and made a big deal out of April 1 2007 being the BIG DAY when I switch over from seven years at Diaryland to this new LowBudgetSuperhero.com blog space. Well, as you can see, I'm not really BLOGGING, as the kids say, very much. I can't get the hang of this new format, and I'm feelin' backed up. I needed some blogging Ex Lax. So I was going to say "fuck it" and surprise everyone by putting my D'land shit back there and then just keep both D'land and this -- doing the original entries in D'land and then simply copying and pasting at LBSH.com so they'd both be current. However, when I tried logging into D'land it took like ten minutes of trying before I realized it just ain't gonna happen. Diaryland's like, down or something. So fuck it. I'm here, I'll get used to it. Feh. I will. I will. So next week is the big wedding. It's on Saturday. It'll be nice to get out of the city for a weekend. Me 'n Joey are taking the train on Friday afternoon, staying over. The wedding isn't until 5 on Saturday, but I want to be relaxed and non-rushed this entire weekend. Oh yeah, I'd better tell my people at work to go stick their heads in some pigs. Or, I mean, tell my people at work that I'm taking the Friday off. Yes, that's what I'll tell them. Secretly I'll be thinking about the pig thing. (I'm VERY UNHAPPY at my job. My job SUCKS. Westbye gave me a new way to express how bad something is, and I shall express it now: my job is a MESH COLOSTOMY BAG.) About the wedding travel. Everyone knows I don't drive anymore and that Joe never drove at all. And yet, people are so weird about their cars. Out of all of the people driving to the Cape for this wedding, the only, only, only person to think to offer a ride to me and Joe? Was Chuck. Chuck the Magnificent. He's like me -- he is not weird about his car. When I had a car, I'd drive my friends anywhere they wanted to go! It was SO no big deal. I guess it's just me and Chuck who think like that. And Laura, she was always totally open and zen about driving, unasked, when we hung out a lot. And Hub, Hub'll drive anywhere. And Thermos. Thermos, Chuck, Hub, me and Laura are not weird about driving. Everyone else is pretty much content to let me wait for the bus until my fingers fall off. (That's only a consideration in the deep winter freeze). Thank you, Chuck. If there were more Chucks there'd be fewer sad people in the world. I emailed Joe's mom and sister a friendly little note about our travel plans. Otherwise, as I've learned, the topic seems to be a rather large Time Suck. By letting the two of them in the loop in advance, I am hoping to not have to constantly discuss travel plans on the phone all week long before we go, then all evening when we arrive, then all day before the wedding, then during the reception, then during brunch the next morning. Yes, there's a wedding going on so one would think that other, more important considerations would take precedence over this topic. I would think so too. I'm just planning ahead here based on past experience. Because around the fifth or sixth time somebody with the name Kowalski questions our travel choice, I just may snap. ******** Here's something wickedly funny. I began this entry with a rant about my lack of being able to really stick to my April 2007 new diary format, right? Well. Halfway during it, the excruciatingly frustrating fuckfest of suck known as "my computer" made me just get up from my desk and go to the living room and whine like a little bitch. The result of that is, I'm finishing this entry on a Mac G3. Seriously, my PC is like a...like...all I can think of is a vague metaphor for something fast filled with oatmeal. An engine filled with oatmeal? I don't know, something like that. Whatever. I have re-installed the OS, I have removed dog-assed huge programs, I have defragged the drive, I have installed and am constantly updating security and virus checkers. I do it all. The fucking thing doesn't wanna work. So right now? I'm typing this on a Mac G3. It's one that Joe bought off our friend Geoff about a year ago. The spacebar sticks and it's old, but so far it's better than my Junkyard Dog. Except that all my shit is on the Junkyard Dog. I'll have to deal with that. Why doesn't someone just get me a Macbook Pro laptop. Just walk up to me and say "You're a nice lady, here you go." I was SO CLOSE to buying one a few months ago, but I held back because I had a feeling. "Lexi," I said to myself, "I think you'll need the money for the IRS when April comes." And I did need the money for the IRS when April came. OH, yes, I wrote a BIG fat check. So it's a good thing I didn't buy a Macbook Pro laptop, because I was ABLE to write a big fat check. "See," I said to myself. "Listen to your inner accountant at all times." I have to save up for new computer though. It's becoming vital. I can honestly say to the IRS at this time (because isn't there a thing, don't they want you to sell your stuff if you can't pay the bill?) that I have no ipod, no cell phone, no car, no stereo, no laptop. I have a boombox from 1990-what, an ancient digital camera that weighs about six pounds (I was living in Acton, MA when I got that, which means, what, 1997?), and a computer that, frankly, they can fucking have. But if I'd spent over $2K on a spiffy new Mac laptop, I don't think the IRS would quite agree about my priorities. When my computer started to die I was actually bumming about my lack of "stuff" in terms of electronics and gadgets. My internal rant was about how I just don't know how come other people seem to get everything they want even when they're crying poor. People who're telling me they can't go out for a dinner because they're "tight right now" but magically come up with a way to buy a not-exactly-cheap new DVD box set. I know people on welfare who have way cooler shit than I do; but then it dawned on me...I don't live on credit. My internal rant fizzled when I realized that, OH YEAH, I don't do credit cards! Duh, of course. If I did THAT I could get whatever gadgets I want. But I don't do that. I'm actually basing my lifestyle on, get this, what is in my bank account. I've been doing that for so long that I'd actually, literally, forgotten there was another way. Credit cards! That didn't even cross my mind. Credit cards are a slippery slope. I just don't think it's worth it. I would rather save up than deal with the immediate gratification of a new toy and the aftermath of high interest and minimum payments and all that crap. I've been typing for awhile now, so I'll log off and think up a pithy quote about the American dream and the American nightmare. Tomorrow. Sure would be nice to have some new stuff, though.