House Points, Interesting Books Reads, and Cell Phone Issues

Typed: March 21, 2005

[imood mood at time of entry: crabby]
Personal Mood (at time of entry): Cranky

I finally got around to typing up the Wives House Points Guidelines and other details. Once all of the wives edit and okay it, we can get it posted in the community journal. That way, the people who were interested in our wifedom can be a part of it too.

I stopped by the community and changed the layout so that it is more functional this past Sunday (March 20, 2005). We don’t have a banner yet, so why use the layout which features a banner at the top? I also changed the mood theme. I think it looks nice.

The trip this morning to the emergency room was a bit of a scare. My chest still hurts, and the doctors who looked at me were not able to tell me anything specific as far as what is wrong with me. Dr. Wong assured me that I am not dying, but how can she be so sure when she does not even know what is ailing me. *note cheek* *sighs* Anyway, I don’t know what exactly needs to be done. I have been looking into which exercise program I wanted to follow at home, and I walk to work every day that I go. It is a nice little 7 block walk Downtown. That’s if I walk from the bus stop I get off on when I am headed straight to work. If I go to the library first to check my email, then it is a 10 block walk forward, and two blocks over. Not terrible, but I could still use more exercise. I need to get out more. I need to drink more water. (I’m thirsty right now!)

I am technically getting out more on my off days due to a lack of a home computer that connects to the Internet, but it could not hurt to do more.

The search for a second job has been duly stunted by the intentional disconnection of the home phone. My cell has absolutely no minutes on it, and I paid for minutes! I plan to call the store owners or show up there and curse and scream until I get some sort of service. It was bad enough when I was there that they were not helpful, and now I have paid a ton of money only to get nothing. What’s worse is that they do not give refunds. I should have never bought anything from a shoddy foreigner’s shop. They always try to get over on people of color, and pretend that they don’t speak English and whatnot. I really hate that. Of course, that makes me go on a spew about how I hate foreign people and how they should not be in my country and so forth. It’s mostly to upset them as much as they have upset me. It’s like they see a black person come in (Not sure if this happens to Latinos or not), and they get geared up to discriminate. I might have to demand my money back. I don’t care about, nor want, “store credit.” There’s nothing I desire from a crap store like that.

So I am stuck. People are trying to reach me, and I have no way to talk to anyone. I can’t even make one lousy phone call to check in with my friends. I am at the point where I feel that I rightfully hate eh dislike (it jumps) my mom for being so petty. She tries to find any little way to control those around her. Sure, I could be more respectful, but when you spend all of your time/most of your life hating someone, you don’t find it in you to be respectful very often. Some part of me must love her, because I would be sad to see her die. It might be because I’d be out of a place to stay. I know that’s a terrible thing to say, but it’s completely true. It’s both really. I don’t think that I could handle it if she just dropped dead. I’d probably go on a suicidal binge, because let’s face it, what would be the point in living? I am certain there are many valid reasons, but I don’t know if I would be able to focus on them if she just died on me. I don’t know really.

I am taking my current desire to write freely for granted, as I usually do when I get a stable burst of inspiration. I really should have had enough of the “I’ll type it later.”s by now. I would think that I would have learned by now. Guess not. That’s why it takes me so long to publish chapters of my story.

I am quite inspired by this book I read called, Amy and Isabelle (Book info by Barnes and Noble, but the book shown is a reprint, which I do not have. I have a copy that is an earlier edition). (It is published by Vintage Books, which is a off-shoot of Random House. The book is part of the Vintage Contemporaries Editions.) It really made me want to just jot down any ideas or stories I had stored away. The book focuses on the mother-teenage daughter relationship as the basis of the novel, but it so much more than just a teen drama novel. The point of view is shifted mostly from Isabelle’s (the mother) to Amy’s (the daughter) points of view, but it includes the private thoughts of other featured townspeople. There are sentences that jump forward into the future to let the reader know what happens. It’s usually a small or partial jump that is furthered as the book goes along with another jump. Quite interesting to read. Especially for me, because I always spend my time wondering what happens to the characters after the book ends. Ending a book is like ending an important, all though temporary, part of me. You get to know the characters, and come to care for them and their well-being. I just want to know that they are okay.

The inner thoughts of the teenage daughter is so accurate that I am extremely reluctant to pass the novel on to my own mother to read. There are some things that a mother does not need to know about her own daughter. Everything from the innocent, naive way Amy views sex and relationships to her exploration of her sexual self are all as a teenager would view the situations. It’s like the woman (the author, Elizabeth Strout) either spoke to teenagers recently, or still remebered being one. Something rare in adults as they age.

Another little ‘discovery’ I made was an all-lesbian book publisher by the name of The Naiad Press, Inc.. The book I picked up is called Watermark (The info is by B & N, but the summary is shoddy. The same sentence appears on several sites. Pooh.) by Karin Kallmaker (which has me questioning whether that is the author’s given name – link research has proven me correct). I found a book called, Everybody Loves You by Ethan Mordden. It is a part of the Stonewall Inn Editions collection that is published by St. Martin’s Press/Griffin. I have not really started reading very much out of either book, but I might. I’ll have to share the links with one of my Slytherin wives, Lucy. I know that she will appreciate slash and femmeslash publishers.

You really never know what you will find at a library book sale. I hope to read through all of the 30-something books that I bought. I really should have stuffed a few more Babysitters’ Club books in my bag. I miss reading them. The one that I did pick up was a wonderful way to re-enjoy my childhood. I will have to go to Half-Priced Books (Maybe 1/4-Priced Books) and clean them out.

Anyway, Mom’s just pulled into the driveway, and I want to see about using her phone card to possiblely make a phone call to the store owners. I would wish for good luck, but I am sure that anyone who’s read this far must be convinced that I am a racist. And you know what, I truly am. I am a racist, but then I would have to cop to all the other bad things I am. In general, I don’t single out one particular race to hate, I dislike everyone equally. I really don’t see much wrong with being a bitchy misanthrope. *shrugs* Maybe that is just me.

As for the past few weeks (Or is it months?), I am anywhere from cranky to all-out bitchy all day long. It’s just like I can’t stand anyone or anything anymore. I have these brief rays of sunshine sort of happiness, but I am always willing to chuck the whole day and call it crappy. I think I might be frustrated, but it would not exactly be a short list to narrow the reasons why I would be frustrated.

My chest hurts and I should get around to doing something useful, like working on my little project for my pen pal or something. I’m just so upset over the cell phone business, and my aching chest. I need to curse someone out.

EDIT: I thought I’d post the LJ icon I would use for this entry, or least the pissed off at people arts.

Danielle