Good Fish, Bad Fish.

I’m tired. I’m beyond tired. And I shouldn’t be, since I’ve been getting eight hours of sleep per night. But I’m just… tired. I don’t feel so great, and I never got around to eating dinner tonight and never noticed. I have an itchy scratchy throat and my voice was all hoarse this morning. Like I need to be sick right now.

CraneBoy (CB) came over last night. He got here about twenty minutes after I got home, which gave me time to put on PJs, do the dishes, and tidy up the apartment a bit. I told this to AM2 tonight and she commented that my place is never that messy. I appreciated that. What I appreciated more was Pretty’s offer to come over and clean my place for me while I was at work last night. What an awesome friend, eh? It’s not every day that someone will offer to come over and pick up your dirty panties and wash your tupperware.

Anyway, last night CB and I just cuddled on the loveseat and watched some TV. It was a pretty uneventful evening. We watched Indigo a lot, too. Indigo does things that CB’s bird doesn’t do. This simply reinforces the fact that Indigo A) doesn’t know he’s a bird, and B) is one of a kind, and WTF am I going to do when he dies? I’m going to be heartbroken.

Today was year-end at Hell. It was a pretty quiet day for me; I was trying to make sure everything I have is cleaned up, but it didn’t help when half the systems went down at lunch because of some upgrades they’re doing to the systems. And it didn’t help that I didn’t feel well, either.

I went to CM tonight (third night in a row, but I’m off the rest of the week). AM2 is still – for a week now – in a rotten mood. I love her dearly, and it’s only because she’s my friend that I’m putting up with it. She needs a vacation, and she’s leaving next week, so right now it’s a matter of “grin and bear it”. We were setting up one of the displays because we’re having a month-long sale on one product, and I did the main display. She didn’t like it, so I tweaked it. And she still didn’t like it, so I tweaked it again. And again. And again. Until I’d spent four fucking hours on this display that she still didn’t like. That included the time I spent running to the store to get sand. Yes, sand. An 18-kg bag of sand.

She did the tills and everything tonight because I was still working on the fucking display. (That’s how I’m going to think about it all month long. “That fucking display”.) I finally got her to realize that part of what she wanted simply wasn’t going to happen, so she compromised for me, and the display is done. And for the record, no, she still doesn’t like it.

Sis invited me to a Hallowe’en party up north this year. I said I would go, and so I started thinking about costumes. I’m not really interested in skanky Hallowe’en costumes. I just don’t think… you know, there’s a time and a place. So, I’m going as Bedtime Bear. Mom said she’d make the costume, I just have to find a pattern and find some turquoise fur.

CB and I are getting together tomorrow night. That is, I guess, depending on how I feel. He worked today, and he asked what I was doing “later”. I like having him here, but I feel badly about him driving all the way from his place to mine. At the same time, I have no intention of driving out to his place on weeknights, because that’s two hours in the car that I’d rather not experience. We’ll have to find a compromise. That is, if the relationship continues to grow. I’m trying to be a bit pessimistic on purpose, because more often than not, I’m too optimistic.

All right, Indigo and I are going to curl up and watch TV for half an hour before we go to bed.

Bang bang bang on the door baby!
Knock a little louder baby!
Bang bang bang on the door baby!
I can’t hear you
Bang bang on the door baby

Okay, seriously. Who found my blog using “flagellation machine for sale”? WTF? I don’t think I’ve ever used those words in a sentence ever in my life. I don’t even know what to say to that. It’s like when you sit quietly in a room and hear crickets chirping. So yeah.

Not much happened today, but I wanted to make note of Indigo’s vet appointment on Saturday morning. He’s ten, and he’s never had a physical. So the vet came in, I explained that he was fully flighted and she promptly managed to let him out of his carrying case without grabbing him. Then she tells me that lovebirds are the pitbulls of the bird world, and it’s okay, they know how to handle them. I have to admit, she didn’t instill much confidence in those first few minutes. Indigo is apparently an exceptionally well-behaved Lovebird, he is not a pitbull.

aside – the Landlord is doing something downstairs. something that involves banging on my floor. loudly. hard. like with a mallet. so everything in the apartment shakes. for the record, it’s a quarter to eleven. *ahem*

All right, so I grab Indy, and I hand him to her. She looks at his beak, asks about his diet, checks his wings. She takes a light and looks into his eyes (clear), up his nostrils (pleasantly feathered), and into his ears. His ears! She let me see his ears. Ten years I’ve had him and I’ve never seen his ears. It was kinda cool! She decided that perhaps it would be best if his band came off, but she wasn’t sure if it was too thick for the clippers. If it was, they had to grind it off, and it was going to be a really stressful experience for Indy. And if she started, she had to finish, one way or another.

I told her to do what she thought was best, and she showed me where there is a callus on his leg from where the band has been rubbing. She thought it was too tight, so I told her to take it off. Indy was extremely well-behaved through the whole thing. She finished by listening to his heart, and telling me that he might be just a tad bit underweight, but that it’s rare to see birds that aren’t fat, so she couldn’t be sure he wasn’t just fine.

Luckily, the band came off with the clippers, but she cut his leg. It couldn’t have been too painful because he didn’t struggle and he didn’t screech. She treated it with iodine, and put liquid tissue on it. Then she called today to ensure that it was doing okay! I was really impressed with that bit of follow-up.

Otherwise, the highlight of my day was having my Chinese Supervisor ask me for help naming his son. He had chosen a name, but apparently when naming a child in the Chinese tradition, you must represent all elements, and the child’s name did not represent “wood” or “forest”. So he asked me for my assistance via email. It was really cute. I sent him back a list of names and their meanings, and positives and negatives (i.e. “Foster” means “forester”, but it’s also the name of a beer). I believe The Supervisor settled on a nice name, but I’m not sure as I bet Mrs.Supervisor has some say in the matter.

Anyway, it’s late, and I’m tired. We worked hard at CM today, too. AM2 is still in a rotten mood, and I feel badly for her, but she needs to learn not to bring that negativity to work. Yeah, yeah, I know, listen to who’s talking.

I like CraneBoy. I like spending time with him, I don’t feel awkward, and I like cuddling. But I have never met a guy so obsessed with my butt as this one. I’m just writing off the cuff here, because it is, after all, my blog. So that means, Chicago, I don’t have any desire to discuss this in-depth right now. But if the man says, “Let’s have anal” one more time, I might have to smack him. I know some women like anal. I have nothing really against anal, except you spend hours afterward feeling like you’re crapping your own pants. But hey, different strokes for different folks. Maybe we can meet in the middle – he pays some attention to my chest, and I can let him pay some attention to my butt. Anyway.

I spent last night at his place. It’s a nice little house on the outskirts of even his town, so it’s pretty far out of the way. It’s cute, and I liked the house. It’s got a nice piece of property with it, too. And I saw his beloved Beemer, as well as his quad. Some guys have all the toys. He bought me dinner, and we ate Chinese food before we watched a couple of movies and went to bed. I remember with TheGiant that I basically couldn’t sleep with him. I wasn’t comfortable being in bed with him. I guess that probably should’ve told me something, but I guessed it was just to do with the fact that I was used to sleeping on my own.

I had no problem sleeping with Mud, though, and I have no problem falling asleep with CraneBoy. For the most part, we’re literally wrapped around each other, and it’s nice to be so close to someone else. He basically purrs whenever I touch him, too. Anywhere. Stroke the back of his neck, rub his arms or scratch his back, and he just groans. It’s kinda cute.

I came home and went back to bed for a couple of hours. I woke up at 2:30, and figured if I didn’t get out of bed, I’d be screwed. So I got up, and accomplished a fair bit, for a Sunday. After figuring out I could afford it, I did some grocery shopping. I made chicken pot pie (-ish – no crust). I made a couple of servings of beef stew. I made T.’s protein bars (omg so good), and I used the leftover sausage from last week in a pasta / peppers / feta cheese dish. So that gives me lots of meals for the next week.

I talked to Mom and to T. today, too. Everyone has a sense that something is about to go wrong, that something is wrong. There’s a sense of foreboding. Mom’s getting bad feelings at her night job. I’m not sleeping well. T. and her sister are sure it’s centred around me, and called me “spongy”. Yes, Pretty, Seko used that term without ever hearing me refer to myself as a sponge. A little freaky, no? I don’t know what to do but wait and see what’s going to happen. But it’s a distinctly uncomfortable feeling. It didn’t help that T.’s phone cut out when we were talking. Or that while I was talking to Mom, Dad apparently came by and hung up the other phone, causing our line to be disconnected. That makes no sense, as Mom was on the phone and live with me. The fact that the other phone got hung up shouldn’t have mattered. Argh.

Mom and I also talked about the fact that we’re both exhausted all the time. I mean, CraneBoy and I went to bed last night around 2. Then I woke up a few times and went to the bathroom, but we didn’t actually get out of bed until past 10, by the time we… er…. Anyway. But I came home and slept for another couple of hours. And I’m exhausted still. I thought it was the seasons changing, but Mom says she’s been going through the same thing for about the same number of weeks as me. Just this feeling that even if you get nine hours of sleep, it’s simply not enough. It stinks.

AM2 came by today, too. She is not having a good week, and I feel so truly bad for her. I’m glad I live here, though, because it gave her a place and a person to come and vent to, and I was so glad that I could be of some use to her for once, instead of constantly feeling like she’s propping me up emotionally. I hope things improve for her; I think her hubby is going through a mid-life crisis or something. Or he put his brain in backwards. Whatever.

Pretty and I went to the Ottawa St. Festival on Saturday. The rain held off for us, which is great. I didn’t buy anything or find anything for Grandpa’s wedding, but she bought a mirror (it was advertised for $65 and she got it for $50, not a bad negotiator, eh?!). Then we went to the mall, because The Shoe Warehouse was having a 2 for $99 sale. I saw these boots on the web site, and was just so delighted when they actually fit in the store! Pretty said they screamed my name, so I damn well bought ‘em! God, I love them. Pretty bought these after trying on (I think) these, but they looked kinda hooker-ish with the big platform on them. And the lace-up ones, as she continues to lose weight, she can tighten them.

Anyway, I’m tired. I’m just waiting for the stew to cool down so I can throw it in the fridge along with the rest of my meals. I’m glad it took so little time to make at least six meals, plus those protein bars. They taste fantastic, and I’m glad I finally got around to making them. I’ll be eating them for breakfast with a banana for the next week. I promise Rico Suave I’d let him try some, so I’ll have to take a few in for him to sample.

All right, off to bed to read for a bit. I’m on to Saul, and how he becomes King, even though God clearly thought it was a bad idea.

Oh, and someone was looking for my blog through “good fish bad fish chicago mud”. Hmm, me says.

Today was a busy day at Hell. I went to work only to find out that they laid off three people that directly affected my job. One of them is a 30-something father of two young children. A second is a 61-year old woman with a terminally-ill husband. The third is a 50-something man who is the sole breadwinner in his home. It leaves you with a sick feeling in the pit of your stomach. I know, God forbid it came to that, I could take a package and probably go back to the Little Man’s office and I might even be ahead of the game. But that’s not an option that anyone wants to face.

I went to a thing with Pretty tonight, regarding the small business she’s in. I had a lot of fun, it was really kinda neat. They’re planning to run another one next week, and I’d like to go to that one, too. I called AM2 and she said she’s probably free to attend as well. That’ll be nice. We need more of this type of women-supporting venture.

Then CraneBoy texted me, and then he called me. Actually he texted and then called, then got a call from his boss and called me back. Sure, he talks mostly about himself, but I’ve noticed all boys do that. But he still called, because he wanted to talk to me. He took the initiative. Tomorrow night has been postponed; he’s concerned about the lateness of my arrival at his place versus how long I’d get to stay there because Indy’s vet appointment is Saturday morning. So we’re getting together Saturday night, instead. I’m supposed to call him tomorrow night when I finish work, though. Looks like it’s time to update My5 again. I could tell you how big the smile on my face is, but I’d just… It’s nice to feel special.

I need to talk about the ghost. There are a lot of coincidences with T. and me and Seko (T.’s sister) right now. But I need to process what T. told me today, and get some things straight in my head. Bottom line is, based on all the signs, it looks like something big is happening. And not something good. I had a dream about Grandma last night. It wasn’t a bad “she’s dead” dream, but it was a dream about Grandma. And T. tells me today that she thinks we need to be worried about the elders. So that has me worried.

Then I came home and watched Grey’s. I love it. The season premiere was excellent. I felt like Bailey, during the elevator scene. I feel exactly like that sometimes, that’s when I shut down and Chicago gives me shit. Like if you care anymore, you’re just going to explode. Maybe that’s why we like television so much. Because parts of our personalities are up there on the screen, but they’re magnified. They’re blown out of proportion so we recognize parts of ourselves that perhaps we wouldn’t otherwise do? I don’t know.

Tomorrow is another day.

I’m tired, and I’m grumpy, and I’m going to bed soon.  That stupid pregnant twat did nothing tonight. I hate working with her. I am not always highly motivated, but she is lazy, lazy, lazy. It pisses me off. Jesus. You’re earning money, sitting on your damned ass, doing fuck all. Argh!

Anyway. Grandpa has formally decided that his wedding will be November 14. I’m excited for him, and looking forward to going down to meet the bride. I’m planning on booking off only the Friday and Monday. Then again, T. is coming up on the 7th, so maybe I’ll take an extra day to spend with her before I head out of town. I called Mom and she said I could go with them, so that would be handy. I’d rather do that than drive on my own, or drive with Sis and the boys, to be honest. I hope for her sake she can get her passports in time, but I’m not counting on it.

Today was a busy day at Hell, too. Lots to do, and I didn’t get everything done. That’s a good feeling – I like going in knowing that I have things to do the next day. I’m sort of half-talking to CraneBoy right now. He didn’t have a good day, and doesn’t appear to be in the best of moods. Rather than poke the bear, I’m minding my own business and reminding myself that I don’t know him really well yet and everything takes time.

I read Sheryl Nadler’s column today, just like every Wednesday (that and Style Winners or Losers makes up my Wednesday lunch break). Given my recent experience with Mud, the concept of “secret crushes” made me smile. I’m glad that the thing with Mud is done, because now at least I know. I’m not left wondering, there’s no “what if” hiding in the closet. Mud yanked that sucker out and beat it black and blue and left it for dead on the floor. Still, it was nice to know that someone else has experienced the same thing… that sort of hopeful, happy, what-if scenario that you’re not really sure you want to have come true… I guess in my case it was better as a fantasy.

Anyway, I’m off to bed, I think. Maybe I’ll get some reading done tonight. Tomorrow I’m off to Pretty’s gathering, and then Grey’s premieres!

And, the longer we talked, the more we laughed…

CraneBoy came by tonight. It’s an hour from his house to my apartment. He got here around 8:30 or 9, and just left (it’s a quarter to 12). We talked here, then we went for a drive to grab a coffee. He showed me the crane that he uses, and we looked at car lots (it sounds surprisingly like a lot of dates I had with TheEx in the beginning). We just spent time together. He didn’t even try anything, know what I mean?

But get this – he brought spare headlights and spare lights for my license plate. And then he changed Memphis’ headlight in less than five minutes. I actually called Pretty just to tell her. It took me more time to connect the call than it took him to finish the job.It certainly took him less time than it took Pretty and me. We decided CraneBoy is a keeper.

Not that there was no touching, but we’re still feeling each other out, I think. There was no extended makeout session. There was no undressing. lol. It was nice. It was good just to be with someone who wanted my company, not my ass in bed. He makes me feel that he’s lucky to be with me. Less so tonight than the other night, but that’s not a bad thing. I like to feel special – like I’m somebody important in someone’s life.

He asked if I wanted to get together again on Friday night after I finish work, and I said, “Oh, so you want me to see you again?” And he said, “uh huh.” Like it was a foregone conclusion. I was just teasing, but it’s still nice to know someone wants to be with you. He commented that he was over “puppy love”, that he’d been hurt enough times that he didn’t believe in it anymore. And I’m okay with that, because I think not jumping into something (says the girl who slept with a guy on the second date) is good for me right now. I haven’t “taken it slow” in a very long time. TheGiant was good, Mud was good, but I think CraneBoy is good for me. He’s “good people”.

Oh, and I found (in my Junk Mail folder) an email from OM today. I got it on Saturday at 1 a.m.. Seriously now. I don’t know what to say to him. Gee, it would be nice to stay in contact with you for networking purposes, but you know, there’s that whole uncomfortable thing about sleeping together and not liking your attitude and then you dumped me for two other chicks sort of thing. Meh. I have better things in my life right now.

Going to bed with a smile on my face.

PS – he’s a Leo. Go figure.

All right. Here are the goods.

I met CraneBoy at 7:30 (he was even early) at the bar for a drink. We ordered some apps and a couple of beers. Then we ordered more apps and another coupla beers. We left the restaurant sometime around 9:30, I think. We went for a walk down by the water, which was really nice. Except I was in my boots (3″ heels) and he was in running shoes. And he’s a foot taller than me. We did more talking, more laughing. We sat for a few minutes on a picnic table, and he sat close enough that his thigh was touching mine, but no hand-holding. I was unsure of how he felt, so I didn’t want to make a move, but suffice it to say that I like him.

Anyway, we continued walking, and made it almost down to the Lift Bridge when he asked if I wanted to sit down again; there was bench to our left. I said sure, but he said, “What’s down there?” indicating a boardwalk towards the lake. I didn’t know, as I’ve never been down it. It’s a little deck area with a few benches, about fifty feet from the beach. So we stood there and leaned against the railing for a while and then we sat together on the bench. He did the whole, “are you ticklish” thing. It’s such a cheap excuse to touch someone (lol) but it works. It was really nice just to be with him, there wasn’t any pressure.

At one point, he just picked me up and set me across his lap. Sometimes I forget that I’m not a big person. And he definitely is a big person. It was good to be with him. There was copious amounts of making out, but he was very well-behaved. He didn’t force anything, didn’t push, didn’t insist on anything. Not that he didn’t touch, but he didn’t push the issue. We didn’t get back to B-town until past midnight.

While we were on the bench, he flat-out asked what I was looking for. No one has ever point-blank asked me to my face. I asked what he meant – was I looking for a quick lay or a relationship? And he laughed and said yes. I said I had been thinking more along the lines of a relationship. I was honest about it. I mean, a quick lay would be good, but clearly I’m ready and I want more from my partner than that. And he said he was looking for more, too. And then I told him that I’m not comfortable seeing more than one person at a time, and he said he was okay with that, too.

He asked if I was on birth control, that sort of thing. It was very intelligent. I don’t really remember him from school. I remember he wore a lot of black, and I remember he was one of the group of guys who intimidated me. I’m still feeling him out, discovering how intelligent he is, how quick on his feet, that sort of thing. And so far, I’m impressed, but I’m testing the waters.

So I brought him home. I’d cleaned up yesterday afternoon, just on the off-chance… And then I knew my period was going to start today, so if we were gonna, it had to be last night. And boy, did we. He’s very vigorous, but I can work with that. And he liked my apartment, said he liked the yellow. Oh! And Indigo let CraneBoy scratch his head! I was so impressed. Indigo is very picky about who touches him, and that CraneBoy was allowed to rub his head is pretty remarkable.

I didn’t go to work today. Geez, we didn’t finish (the first time) last night until past one. And then we slept for a bit, and then at 5:30… and again, nevermind. Suffice it to say that I called in sick. I needed the sleep. In what was perhaps a moment of poetic justice, CraneBoy knocked Mud’s flowers off my trunk and squashed them on to the floor. I couldn’t even work up the enthusiasm to get mad about the spilt water. lol. Karma, I tell you.

I’m glad, though, that I waited through the summer. I mean, I wouldn’t have traded that time with Mud for anything. If he came back now, I’d have a hell of a time trying to decide what to do. But CraneBoy is here. He’s honest, genuine, and nice. I can see introducing him to my friends. I can see taking him up north, without having to worry that he’s going to feel pressure like Mud would have. And let’s be flat-out honest here, it doesn’t hurt that he owns his own home and has a couple of cars (one a Beemer), and he has a fantastic job that pays a shitload of money. His brother does the same thing, and he said one year his brother cleared $120K. That’s over two years of my wages, including CM.

Anyway, CraneBoy called when I finished at CM and wondered if I wanted company tonight, but I said I’d rather get some sleep. I’m also a bit concerned about wearing out the newness, to be honest. I know I have a propensity for jumping in head-first. So this time, I’m going to go a bit slower, and not sleep with him two nights in a row. rofl. God, I’m such a hypocrite. Anyway. We’re getting together tomorrow night. Now I really do need some sleep, and my head really is hurting. Stupid weather. Stupid PMS.

… sometimes I wonder if there’s something wrong with me, that I can so easily switch from one man to another. I mean, less than a month ago, I couldn’t see not being with Mud. And now I could actually look at CraneBoy having a beer with Dad. Do I love too deeply or not deeply enough, or am I flighty? I don’t know. I really don’t know.

Today was a busy day. I got home late last night, and then I was up early to go to work. I showered, but only … well, not like I didn’t shower, but I didn’t wash my hair, so I felt gungy all day. I only had to work four hours, thank God, but they were pretty steady. That’s good, because staring forward is really bloody boring when you’re supposed to be alert and happy and focused.

I went to Chapters after work to get a gift certificate for AM2’s daughter. I thought since I was going, it would be inappropriate to go empty-handed. And I did do my laundry, which is another chore out of the way. I need to clean in here – do some dusting and some vacuuming. But tomorrow I’m sleeping in. That’s my one goal. I’d like to make it to Value Village (at least one or two of them, in search of dress pants for work and maybe some sweaters), but if it doesn’t happen, it doesn’t.

I’m supposed to meet with CraneBoy tomorrow at some point. I left the Ws to him, so I’m waiting to hear. That’s fine. I plan too much. I’m trying to be a bit more… relaxed about my life. I worry too much about stuff I can’t do anything about.

Oh well. I bought a book at Chapters today. I shouldn’t have, but I did. It’s another book of poetry by Edna St. Vincent Millay. I have her book of collected sonnets, but this is Selected Poems and though I’m sure there’s some repetition, a quick flip through showed there’s stuff in there I’ve not yet read. Not that I’m in any way a connosseur of ESVM. I’ve been thinking about Christmas, and I’m probably going to ask for a lot of books. I’d like some Ginsberg and I’d like Elie Wiesel’s Night and a few other things. I know it sounds weird for a girl who’s planning a trip to Montreal to say that books are a luxury item, but they are. I very rarely buy books at regular price; I always wait until the paperback comes out or they find their way to the discount rack. Hell, even my Bible was on sale.

Anyway, here are a few of EVSM’s words for the end of the night.

Ah, I am worn out – I am wearied out -
It is too much – I am but flesh and blod,
And I must sleep.

Pretty and I went to the Derby tonight. We froze our rears off, because Pretty’s friends and her godson showed up, so we shared our blanket with them. They only stayed for two heats, though, because Pretty’s friend hadn’t brought a coat or a blanket for her little one. After they left, we wrapped ourselves up like Inuit under that blanket and stayed to watch the little cars do the Figure 8 track.  We left around 10:30, frozen solid, and having to pee. (Well, I did!)

B ack at Pretty’s place, we were waiting for the Biker and his friends to show up. And because CraneBoy wasn’t able to come to the Fair because he worked late, he agreed to trek all the way back out to Pretty’s place for a beer. That’s a forty-minute drive on the best of days. I was pretty impressed. Pretty was pretty impressed that he did that, too. But then again, like, she had a guy drive from freakin’ Ottawa to see her. So pfft to driving forty minutes.

Anyway, this was the first time I’d seen CraneBoy since high school. Let’s just say he’s matured well. He’s got a husky build, intelligent, crisp blue eyes (I remember them from high school). He’s well-spoken and he had excellent manners. When the guys from Ottawa showed up (late), he got up, greeted each one with a handshake, and sat back down and talked with these people he’d never met, not really even letting the conversation lag. I was really impressed. And it took a lot for him to come to Pretty’s house, when he didn’t know her, he hadn’t seen me in years, and he wasn’t even really sure… I mean, you can’t be, right?

Out in the street, we talked for a few more minutes, and then he gave me a one-armed hug goodbye after we made tentative plans for Sunday. I was really touched. He was extremely respectful.

Now on to Pretty’s man. He’s … not at all what I expected. I don’t know what I expected, but that’s not it. Then again, thinking back on it, he’s almost exactly what I would picture, except shorter. lol. I can’t wait for her to realize how smart and pretty and funny and intelligent she is. Because while the Biker is a good guy, he’s not the perfect guy. I kept lobbin’ ‘em out there at him, potshot after potshot. And you know what? He took ‘em. What else was he supposed to do? But he took them with a smile, and a shake of his head. That really impressed me. Then he hugged me goodbye, and you know, that was pretty impressive too. It was a very “host” thing to do. She’s done good.

Anyway, it’s now a quarter to two, and I have to get up and be at work for nine tomorrow morning. Then I’m coming home to take a nap, and I have to help AM2 with the party for her daughter tomorrow night. I am a glutton for punishment.

I also booked Indigo’s appointment at a vet next Saturday. He needs his beak trimmed and his nails cut, because his nails are leaving gouges in my body. But because he needs the beak trim (which I can’t do) I figured he should just go in to the vet.

Okay, off to bed. I need to wash my face and get my arse between the sheets.

I was in a good mood when I got home. Then I read Dooce, and I got sad. Well, I laughed, first, and then I got sad.

First I laughed because she linked to this. This link is for T., and no one (with the exception of T., perhaps) should watch this at work (nasty language and all).

Then I read this. I read about four or eight pages before I started getting upset. It’s horrid that people think it’s okay to talk to someone else like this, even anonymously. Dooce has her good points and her bad – we all do. We’re all human.

I know that Dooce probablyhas her haters’ email and IP addresses. I’m sure it’s a point of safety for her, because (God forbid) a stalker could utter some nasty-ass threats. I don’t care that Dooce is making money off it. By all means, publish it, and make money off others’ stupidity. I have absolutely no problem with the capitalist aspect. What I have a problem with is people treating each other this way.

Is this what our future is going to be like? A series of anonymous online encounters in which we berate each other, nitpick at each others’ faults, and beat each other down? What the hell kind of a society is that? What happened to supporting people, each other, a society? I just… I guess I find myself disappointed that people could treat each other this way. Dad taught me early on that you can’t feel good about yourself if you’re ripping into someone while hiding behind a pseudonym. And yet, that’s what’s happening here.

I’m sure it’s happened to all of us. It happened to me last week. When I signed up at POF, and posted a photo of myself (a full body shot), someone commented that I looked like I’d been at a local festival that weekend. I replied that I hadn’t, and I wasn’t sure if his comment was meant as a compliment or not. He solidified by suspicion when he said that I dressed like a suburban housewife and advised me to “go eat another rib”. What gives someone the right to think that saying that is okay? Would you say that to my face? Not likely. But it’s okay to say it online?

We’re all guilty of it, but I guess seeing pages of diatribes against one person really brought it home for me. That’s sad. It’s unpleasant. Dooce is displaying human nature at its worst. It’s not funny, it’s depressing.