Peasants and artisans
or: completely unrelated title cause I'm lazy and tired.
In one of my very first journal entries, I talked about leaving the sun roof to my car open during a rain storm. Now, I freely admit that I do terribly stupid things sometimes, and this one's right up there. That was back in august though. August. Sure, there were a few inches of rain water in the bottom of my car. And it took a couple days (alright, a week) for it to dry out. And it still kind of smells.
Today, it was deathly cold. 0-5 degrees. Deathly cold. This is the first time I've driven in the snow, and I'm not very good at it. Every corner, I over compensated and nearly skidded off the road. The worst, though, was the ice forming on the inside of my car. Halfway down my street, my window fogged up and then the fog turned to ice. I cranked up the defogger and the heat, but it only helped nominally. I made it to school, but I had to pull over so my brother and I could scrape the ice off the insides of the window now and then.
This was my father's reaction: "Ah, that is because you left the windows down that time it rained." In august.
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I wrote that last night, and I guess its cheating to call it today's entry, but I'm lazy. I realize it isn't even a very funny story, but my dad isn't a very funny guy. So, yeah. Anyway, I had a crappy friday night, but whining about it is silly and pointless cause it's over with. I had decided to write a journal entry, and it always gets on my nerves when I have decided to write an entry and can't, for some reason or another.
(I hate apostrophes. oomph.)
All summer I worked for a family as a baby sitter. I don't like baby sitting in general, I'm just not very good at it. This family didn't help. They weren't eccentric, I would've infinitely preferred that, but they were awfully odd. The mother went from being gregarious (though pleasant) to downright snide. She was domineering to the extreme. It made me feel really incompetent, as though I were one of the children.
She opened the door, and nearly screamed, "WOOOO, MARGARET! WE ARE SO GLAD TO SEE YOU." (exactly like that, in all caps.) "NOW TAKE OFF YOUR SHOES! GET COMFORTABLE!" (take off my shoes? what am I, 10?) I wonder if it's deliberate or not, this over the top mother act. I think I'm just put off by her. And by being asked to baby sit on a friday night. (I could've said no, but then, I'm an amoeba and have no spine.)
.
I was gonna show you some pictures of me right now, so you could get an idea of how crappy I look this morning, but my camera isn't working which is upsetting. Not that upsetting, but upsetting nonetheless. Oh wait, it worked. Boy, I look like crap today. Gee whiz.
I'm trying to tell you what I did last night, or what I've been feeling, but damn lindsay is distracting me. And she doesn't even know she's distracting me! At any rate, I'm surfing her pictures. All Hail Lindsay Queen of Darkness. That's all I have to say.
Oh, I have more to say, and its this: "They say that where you are on New Year's just after midnight represents where you're going with your life." (well, I didn't say that, I quoted lindsay.) Does this mean I'm gonna spend the rest of my life asleep, in bed? There are worse ways to spend one's life, and there are worse ways to spend one's new years. Every now and then, I feel bitter that I missed out on any celebration, and didn't even stay up to see New Years. It comes and goes.
So does my anxiety. Came back last night. Unexpected, unwanted, scary too. Don't like it. Wanted it to go away. It didn't until I fell asleep. It is very physical, it leaves a dirty taste in my mouth.
I had strange dreams. I dreamed that I was buying records. I had just taken a bath, and was driving around wrapped up in towels with my hair soaking. I walked into a record store, still wrapped in towels, and thumbed through the Patti Smith section of the record aisle. There was a copy of Easter, but it had a different cover, and "rock n roll nigger" wasn't on the list of songs. On the album cover, she was standing facing the camera with her hands at her side.
People behind me were pushing and shoving to get at the records, so I snatched up Easter and ran to pay for it. I dropped my towel, and handed the cashier my money. I stood there, naked and shivering and dripping with water.
I've effectively managed to waste my morning. There are worse ways to waste time, however. I'd rather have a journal entry to show for it than the knowledge I could've gleaned from watching television or something like that. (On the other hand, laura said to me the other day "I learned from watching television that Robert Smith was in "Siouxie Sioux and the banshees!" which is probably the most useful piece of information television has ever provided.)
I was reading danica's journal, and she mentioned me, and my link to metajournals. Oh, my. I remember first visiting metajournals and getting very freaked out.
Very. Freaked. Out.
Online journals are weird. Right now, I'm accepting this as a truth: "If you put your journal online, it means that you want it to be read, and critiqued, and commented on." Now, if you pretend (to an extent) that no one reads, critiques, or comments on your journal (you pretend the first one, you know the second two) you'll be fine. You'll write a journal. The only thing different about it is that it'll be online.
I'm contradicting my entry a couple days back. I know that. I never pretended to know anything. (Well, I might've pretended, but I know nothing, so pay me no heed.)
Not that I need to tell you to do that.
Final random sentence; "Death stalks an infant as a mother looks on helplessly." I've been gloomy and doomy lately.
2000-01-15, Wealthy mothers and other stuff
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