ok, before today's rhapsody begins, i suppose i'll toss in a comment: daylogs are exactly that, they are what happened to you in a day, or a week, or whatever. there is no place for downvotes in daylogs; if you don't like what's going on in someone else's life, just shut up and be goddamn glad it isn't you.

Rhapsody in Screwed :: Part XI i think...
06.13.01 :: 14:55

let me take this back to monday where it all began...jerrett wrote me something about being the maid of honour at his mother's wedding, so i had to ask how he looked in a dress. the answer came many hours later, and i'll get to that in a minute. monday was the usual: class, werk, home. then small_adorable called me and i talked him into coming over for dinner. dinner became talk, talk became dress-up, dress-up became more talk -- and then the phone rang. i tried to ignore it; i have an answering machine. but three minutes later, the phone rang again. shit. gotta get that. anyone who wants my attention that badly probably actually needs it. i was startled by the voice on the other end, and then i was really convinced that something was wrong. jerrett...calling...me... hrm. well, that means he's not home. he sounds really wound up -- strung tighter than a high e string. so i tell small_adorable to go home, and i get down to business. "look good in a dress?" i asked. though he admits to being sorely tempted, it turns out he did not, in fact, wear a bride's maid's dress. finally after half an hour of politely prying, i get it out of him. he wants to come see me. now. *sigh of relief* of course. i think that's a fantastic idea. an hour later, he's on my doorstep wearing what appears to be a cream coloured, three piece linen suit. hey, it got my eyebrow up. but there was so little i could say. i tried to make small talk, but i just sort of stuttered. i put my arms around him, to hold off the twitching fit i felt coming on. i was vibrating a bit, but being pressed against someone while holding your own wrists puts the convulsive jerking right out. i really dislike having nervous seizures. i get excited or jumpy and it starts in the neck; it's like six nervous twitches taken to an extreme that occasionally knock my feet out from under me. i hate when it starts in public. but he stared at me, amazed, and i stared back, just as astounded. "oh god," i said, "you're real." most of the rest of what happened after that is even less of your business than most of what makes it in here, so i'll skip to the relevant bits. at one point: i looked at the suit suspiciously. "i have to know," i said. he explained that he'd gotten into a fight with the roommate-girlfriend-whatever on their way out to a costume party of sorts, and he'd told her to go without him, and never bothered to change. i just looked startled. a bad scene, getting worse as the reintegration script loops itself through larger and larger self-referential errors... i keep waiting for the collapse: "hey, can i move into your closet?" i saw it before, in another context, some years ago. like the old adage: don't shit where you sleep. later, i told the story of the loudest adjective going. my brother standing on a street corner with me, talking about a girl: "i...just...but...it...i...AAAAAAGGGGHHH!! hm. yeah. that's exactly it. AAAAAAGGGGHHH!!" i looked jerrett in the eye: "AAAAAAAGGGGHHH!!" i yelled. he just sort of smiled sickly. i looked pretty ill, myself. i was nauseous. i was dizzy. the world spun around and the bottom dropped out. it was just like that ride at the fair they used to call the gravitron. i said the word i swore i wouldn't say. i wouldn't even think it. i looked at him and made a gesture like slipping off a cliff. *thwap* ouch. luckily, he is still clinging tightly to the same cliff, peril sensitive sunglass implants firmly embedded. if we're lucky, he'll never slip. he went back up to santa fe in the morning, and i went to class. ouch.

"we don't take no shit from a machine"

tuesday was hell. class was painful. granulated love poetry in an open wound. *gack* i sat around a bit with small_adorable, like i do every day, just trying to numb the pain. too bad they don't make lidocaine for the soul. i went to werk, still moping, and was confronted with something on which to take out my frustrations: the new printer had come in. i rolled up my sleeves, cranked up the 80's pop, and got down to business. i didn't leave the office until 19:00. unfortunately, i still can't get the machine to consistently talk to the printer, but i'm convinced it's a cable issue. got home, called niall. "yeah, sure," i said, "i'll come keep you company for a few hours in the morning." *bzzt* wrong. oh so wrong. i had forgotten that my mother went in for cancer surgery at 07:00 this morning. i just couldn't make it out there. i ran interference, i kept the distraction level high, i helped my mom take out her navel ring... i cooked dinner, cleaned the pan... talked sci-fi novels for a while. by the time i got home, i was shaking. exhaustion and nerves. when i get home, i'm calling my mom's house. i want to know she's ok. this was a "well, it may or may not be a hysterectomy, depending how far it's gone" surgery. this is my mom we're talking about. my mom, who just got another tattoo last year, listens to nine inch nails, and wears winnie the pooh t-shirts from the little girl's dept. my mom, who people mistake for my sister. i think i'll be sleeping a whole lot. just to numb the buzzing in my head. for god's sake, this is my mom. my mom is going in for a fairly large surgery. i have to make the noise stop.