Hyper Little Thoughts

New Favorite Artist of the week: Joshua Radin.

Not dead. Just been busy. Tommy got home last weekend, so we spent Friday through Monday together. We celebrated our one month (childish I know, but kind of a big deal to both of us)! Then he came down again Wednesday night since we can't see each other this weekend. I'm at my parents' house this weekend for "family christmas." Got in yesterday, making for a very VERY long day (worked from 4-11, drove straight to the airport, got on the plane at 12:30, landed in detroit, got on the plane, and got here around 6) Pretty much 15 hours of non-stop movement. I'm STILL tired. And now the "family christmas" is pretty much "hey, you'll get your present as sooooon as I buy it," because this one's not talking to that one and that one's pissed off at the other one. Jesus. And people wonder where I got my dramatic side from.

Work has been really up and down lately. Me and Joe are no longer "friends," meaning we had this huge falling out at work because he started talking about how I'm a pedophile (which is NEVER okay!) for dating Tom and how I'm always complaining about not paying my bills (bringing up the fact that I asked for a raise) in front of another manager from another store whom I don't paticularily care for. My promotion's been pushed back about 6 months (anyone surprised), and I'm just generally defeated. Kaplut. Broken in. Rode hard and put away wet.

HOWEVER, I'm still generally loving life. It's like I pointed out in my fight with Joe: my life doesn't suck and I don't hate life because my personal life has never been better. Ever. Cari came over for dinner last weekend with me and Tom, and it was so much fun. I felt, and still feel, like this is the way it should be. Good friends, a good man who loves me, laughter, smiles: this is what it's about. So yeah. I guess I've learned to compartmentalize my life a little bit. Though work peeves me to the nth, it's not my life. Though my family plays raquetball with my brain and emotions, it's not my life. Though there never seems to be enough money, life isn't all about money. I think...I think 2008 is already shaping up to be amazing.

And now to go snuggle up in front of the fireplace and catch up on some much-needed TV time.

You know, I could have not had my mom call and wake me up at midnight, when I have to be up at 3am or work, just to tell me what an asshole son I am. What, does guilt just get better with age? She had her surger - biopsy - done on the 7th. No one called. She should get her results in about a week. I guess the actual surgery went well, but she freaked out and they had to sedate her. She's sore and bruised, but her attitude is so changed it's amazing. She's really positive, and wants to fight. I'm glad.

But man is she good. She should win an award for psychological warfare.

So, I'm a horrible son because I didn't even know about the surgery, let alone call and find out how it went. I'm an awful son because I didn't even ask how my dad's test results on his memory loss came out (bad, btw). I'm a bastard grandson because my grandparents worry about me, but do I call or write? No. No one's heard from me for a couple of weeks. Also, I'm a failure at life because I still work at OfficeMax and I'm not back in school and I'm so much in debt. I can't make a relationship last. Frank was, apparently, the best thing that's happened to me and I couldn't even hold on to him.

( it generally goes into to EMO land from here on )

Edit:
Ya know...scratch that. That's not a good place for me to go. While it feels better to vent, that way of thinking leads to wallowing, leads to worse things. So I'm just not gonna do it. I'm fine.

Coming at you from my new laptop. Squee. I can even deal with the mental terrorism my parents put me through to get it. They bought it for me, but only on the condition that I'm back in school inside of a year. It doesn't sound as bad as it actually was.

The trip home, so far, has been...interesting to say the least. Some highlights are that my mom has become a raving loon, my sister is a cokehead, my dad is clueless or at least pretends to be, and my brother's wife decided she doesn't really like our family so much and is somewhat playing keepaway with the baby - at least that's what my mom thinks. Personally, I think Ethan is only a week old, has a broken shoulder (they had to break it to get him out), and a first time father on his heels, so it seems only natural that they are kind of hiding him away for a bit. Plus, it's not like we can't see him - we just have to drive out to where he is to do so, which I don't think is all that unreasonable. I'm going out today to actually see and hold him. But, I managed to get some pictures of him. The first in a series of nephew pic!spam:

Actually it wasn't that bad, this time. No big arguments, no yelling or screaming, just random disfuncionality.

( Family )

( Prezzies )

More or less, my holiday was uneventful, but exhausting. It seems that the longer I live in Chicago, the more anxious I get when I'm away for an extended period of time. But again - that could be just that I don't like the QC's. *shrugs*


And also, I miss Matt.