Straight No Chaser

Yahoo, Games

i've never liked sundays much. this probably stems from eighteen years of religious coercion (i was christened and raised in the same stuffy methodist chruch where my parents got married, and where my grandmother is still a deaconess, and i HATED it; its basement epitomized that church-basement feel that still gives me the shudders, and the hymnals had this weird magenta snakeskin, and it was one of those "mature" churches where the median age is something close to sixty-five. we moved before i started middle school, and joined a baptist church that was closer to our new house, and that one is more youthful, warmer and more personalized, but i think i'd already been poisoned; i like it there but i never connected with anyone my age, and i still struggle with the same questions that weren't answered at the methodist church), but that's only been a summertime issue for the last two years. i guess another thing would be knowing all the work i've got due tomorrow, but it's all manageable, some even fun. it's just been a blue sort of day.

(the problem with a pedestal is, pedestals suck. i can't even lose at literati, except to tina, without feeling like my identity has somehow been compromised.)

birthday dinner for marcus tonight. i planned it, have been looking forward to it for days, et cetera...we already postponed once, last week, because krystle and treesje had conflicts. it'll be the first time marcus and i have intentionally spent time together since the day we got his guitar (running into him yesterday and hanging out by the atm doesn't count). because, remember, we had decided that things would be better if we didn't try to force his schedule for a while, if we just waited till he'd gotten caught up before we started stealing time for each other again. so it's back to our long-distance routine, phone calls at night, text messages during the day, instant messaging when it happens. i'm supportive but impatient, staying busy but hating it. and being quiet about it, because complaining would be unsupportive, and unfair.

but because i'm in such a nasty mood, i almost want to call and tell him i'm not coming. i'll tell him i chose the place and the guest list, i made the reservation at maggiano's, i called the invitees, and now something's come up and i hope he has a good time.

it would be unbelievably bitchy and he would think it was a test, and he'd be right, it would be a carefully worded construct designed to make him choose. but i mean, he can't very well say he cares whether i'm there, because he's had every opportunity to see me all week, and has invariably declined. i almost want to be a bitch and do it. i'm not going to. i want to. i won't.

but see, i'm not perfect. i'm crafty and evil and i set myself, and others, up for certain unhappiness.