Now Playing -
"Mercy Mercy Me" - Marvin Gaye.
Now Eating -
Nothing. Can't get food when you haven't got a car.
Now Feeling -
Still very pissed off.
Now Tweeting
- Melanie
The Friday Five.
You have just won one million dollars:
1. Who do you call first? My husband, if he�s not in close proximity. Then my parents.
2. What is the first thing you buy for yourself? A new car.
3. What is the first thing you buy for someone else? A new car, for my husband.
4. Do you give any away? If yes, to whom? To friends of ours who are not doing well financially, to my parents to pay off their bills, and to select charities with the stipulation that they not sell me up the mailing list river. Or down, should that be the case.
5. Do you invest any? If so, how? Oh, you bet I invest it. In whatever is the safest investment with the greatest return.
Petty Annoyance #1: I was backed into by a fellow actor the other night. Rehearsal was at the music director�s house, so I carpooled the girls of the cast there from the theater. I returned them when we�d finished, and stopped in the middle of the lot to let them out. Behind a friend of mine, who backed right into me without looking. No major damage � just a fist-sized scrape/dent.
Petty Annoyance #2: I lost the front page to one of my favorite pieces of music in the parking lot Friday morning. Blew out of my hands, and disappeared against the snow. This after I made sure and photocopied a torn page of the same piece last week.
Petty Annoyance #3: I had two instances of random hives Friday. I �hive� when I�m stressed, but I�m not feeling particularly stressed about anything. Heh. My body will tell, I guess.
Petty Annoyance #4: My boss made me place a conference call, telling me it would be as simple as calling 1 (800) 555-1212 and asking for an AT&T Conference Call operator. Dumbass that I am, I believed him. First off, I attempted to navigate the voice-activated menu, and had to deal with the artificially cheery artificially-voiced operator telling me she had no idea what I was looking for, try again please, whom I then subverted by rapidly pressing �0� in an attempt to speak to a human being. I then convinced the human being that I was barely capable of feeding myself, seeing as I didn�t know anything about what I was looking for, other than my less-than-forthcoming boss telling me he (the operator) was technically the �go-to� guy for this sort of thing. I love feeling like an idiot for no reason.
Major Annoyance #1: I also enjoy being made to feel like shit for no reason. Yes, The Mom Thing strikes again. She called Saturday afternoon and left a message asking when we were leaving, and wishing us �Bon voyage� and all that. Probably because she & Dad had a temporary attack of amnesia and forgot they had been told we�re leaving Wednesday. I didn�t call her back. It was a busy weekend.
And yesterday was particularly hellish. Up at 9. Rehearsal was from 11 to 2. Got into the car at 10:10. Dead battery. A quick reconnoiter with Huz followed, to formulate a plan for the rest of the day. Left for rehearsal at 10:20, calling ahead to say I�ll be late. Made it to rehearsal by 11:01 and a warping of the space-time continuum. Came home. Jumped the car (after slipping on the ice and wrenching my hip), and caravanned to the mechanic to drop it off. Grabbed a quick bite, and went to MIL�s house to pick up things to bring to Florida for MIL and SIL. Discovered various important items missing from the house, possibly pilfered during the open house that went on all weekend. Watched Huz curse, throw things, and make several panicked calls to our realtor and the neighbor who feeds the cat. Raced home barely in time to do one load of laundry so I could have clothes to wear to work, not to mention wear on vacation. Listened to Huz make an angst-filled call to his sister. Listen with relief as the realtor finally called back to say it was a terrible mistake, and she had misunderstood his instructions regarding what in the house was up for grabs. No family heirlooms were lost in the hosting of this open house. So last night, at 10:46, when I finally got online to catch up on email and banking and such, I received this:
Subj: (no subject)
Date: 2/1/2004 10:46:32 PM Eastern Standard Time
From: Mom
To: Mel
melanie, what's wrong?
you don't answer my calls, or emails, or anything!
you don't treat us like we're your parents and we're pretty annoyed with your behavior. there's no excuse for this - that your too busy for us!
we called to wish you a good flight and you never even gave us the time and flight info. we are disappointed the way you've been treating us.
Mom
I started to reply via email, and then signed off and called her. I began recounting the hellish day it�d been, got cut off. Told her we are not leaving until Wednesday, got cut off with, �I just thought you would have called to make sure we�re not DEAD!� Tried to further explain how busy I�ve been, got cut off with, �I�m about to go to sleep, and I don�t feel like discussing this. Good night.�
Thank you, Mom. Lob a grenade in my direction, and when I try to defend myself, negate my feelings. Give out my personal information to a virtual stranger, and since you don�t see a problem with that, refuse to understand that I do. Negate my feelings. Act before you think. And make sure that anything that doesn�t fit in your worldview is instantly discounted. And you wonder why I�m not eager to speak to you?
Hope you slept well. I certainly didn�t.
So it appears that a pretty popular someone on Diaryland is not what she seems. Part of me is not really surprised. Of late, this person�s online �voice� was seeming a lot older that I recall her actually being; to the point that I mistrusted my own memory regarding the person�s previously stated age. And when your life reads like a Southern Gothic novel, replete with near-fatal illness, physical abuse, death, random violence and a cast of thousands, sometimes it turns out to be just that. A work of fiction. I feel badly for the people who thought they were her friends and loved ones, and those who stood by her and supported her through all her (now fictional) travails. And I feel nothing but contempt for someone who chose to lie about the things she lied about in order to make herself seem a more �interesting person�, or worse, to get good material for a story. Pathetic.
Much like this entry. Sorry, guys.
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a very fine cat indeed - Friday, Jan. 17, 2014
happy new year! - Thursday, Jan. 24, 2013
this is where i am - Saturday, Jun. 30, 2012
this is how it is - Friday, Feb. 24, 2012
a very late last year's wrap-up - Wednesday, Jan. 18, 2012
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