A loser with a life. That’s what I feel like. I have a life, contrary to Marie’s belief and comprehension, but I feel like a total loser. Before I get into all about how helpless and hopeless I feel, it’s been really cool swapping messages with Andy. It doesn’t seem like there’s a 10-year gap there. Guess that’s what I mean by saying he seems like family. I have known him, after all, all my life and he’s been like a big brother to me as much as a friend.

I have a feeling this is going to be one of those entries where I ramble on and on about things good and bad, so if you want an entry that’s mostly quick and cheery, this entry’s not for you, LOL.

Sometimes I close my eyes and I picture my family, both immediate and extended, as well as friends, all getting along and chatting happily in one big room together. This would be after everyone laid their cards out on the table, much like Andy and I did, and said, “Hey, this is why I was upset with you.” It’s a sweet scene, but an unrealistic one as well and I know that. But I wouldn’t be much of a writer if I didn’t have somewhat of an imagination, would I? Like it or not, there are always going to be those we just don’t get along with and so it’s best to just keep to ourselves.

Andy also doesn’t bug me with a million messages every day like Marie sometimes does. Marie and I started emailing each other earlier. I guess she was at work since she seems to sleep at night when she’s off, and I didn’t expect more than a message or two, figuring she had work to do. After 5 or 6 messages I told her, hey, this is too many messages! I have other things I need to be doing, but please don’t take it personally.

Sure enough, though, that’s exactly how she took it. Not about to be made to feel guilty for having a life, since the rat’s cage and bathroom certainly weren’t going to clean itself any more than the grocery list was going to write itself, I let her know she was free to go fuck herself. I have told her a million times I hate excessive email and that I hate it when she gets pushy and overbearing like she sometimes does, but she doesn’t always get it. It isn’t that I don’t love and care about her. I understand a lot of what she’s going through. But I really do have a life beyond email. I should’ve figured she’d get off on my going off on her, too. After all, she “loves my fire.” I really let her have it too, though she’s not the only one to blame. I should know to keep out of my inbox when I’m busy. In fact, I didn’t get caught up on all the questions and comments I’m amazed to be getting till well after midnight, though in some ways that’s more fun than email. Especially not always knowing who’s asking what. Andy surprised me with one of my old lyric screw-ups because I didn’t think he’d bother going there since we do email.

Molly started bugging me again too, so I blocked her again on her other account. Why do people insist on befriending those that don’t want to be befriended? Is it some kind of contest or game to them? Do they just like that kind of challenge?

Andy and I joke about our prankster days and the lyrics we’d misunderstand. I was listening to Big Yellow Taxi by The Counting Crows and even though I know he’s saying “put up a parkin’ lot,” I swear it sounds like “put up a fucking lot.”

I’m surprised Andy doesn’t set up a Formspring account of his own. I almost shut mine down once I realized it was him playing with me there, but it’s actually kind of fun. I would identify myself, though, if he set up an account.

I hear him when he said he had no use for Facebook and MySpace. Neither do I, except for looking people up, and this isn’t something I do every day. I also like to be where people can find me if anyone’s looking for me, but so far the only one to find me was the drama queen, I’m sorry to say. Yeah, leave your door open and sometimes an intruder will waltz on in and not your friends.

As funny as it may sound, I had hoped to hear the dogs go off at 5am when Jesse usually leaves for work, letting me know that he is in fact working. From the impression I get, I’d still bet he’s never struggled a day in his life and isn’t hard up for bucks. But still, the more he works, the less I have to worry that he might be and that he’ll get fed up with us having to split the rent, even though we don’t do it every month and we give him at least half of it within the first 3 days of the month. And he has said he understands that times are tough, too. Still, I worry about him, even though I’d rather have good renters that eventually do pay him, if I were him, as opposed to what he had in here before us, breaking into his house, stealing his gun, stealing his motorcycle, etc. He kind of deserves the rent-splitting since we have to listen to non-stop barking for what started off as 5 and then became 9 months out of the year. It’s only been quiet since it got really hot. I’m loving it, too. When the weather’s at its hottest it’s quieter than any other place I’ve ever lived in my entire life. The good news is that the guy isn’t legally set up for renters (which his sister admitted) and we could screw him as bad as he could screw us, though I agree with Tom; he’s ok with us and he understands that it’s not our fault and that the rent-splitting isn’t our choice.

Our internet provider’s been fucking with our connection between midnight at 6am. When are they gonna quit this shit, when I’m getting up at 6am? Anyway, I guess they’re adding new stuff and so that’s when I’m concentrating more on writing since I can’t do much work without getting kicked off.

I was down and out yesterday feeling like a complete failure like I have been lately, destined to never get ahead in life and have the things she wants, no matter how reasonable they may be. Tom insists we’ve had more money than most people, but because we had so much to throw away, we did just that, and so we can’t blame anyone for not saving money like we should have. He’s got a point there. Sleep disorder or not, I never had to work outside of the house.

He also pointed out that things have turned around for us before when the carpet’s been yanked from underneath us (when AMEX laid him off, getting started in Oregon, etc.). Yeah, but these things took months, not years. I wasn’t even in jail this long! Nor were we in the Sacramento motels this long. By November we’ll have been going through this shit for as long as I was in Valleyhead.

Change. Everything changes. Sometimes it’s for the better, sometimes for the worse. But change is a constant everyday happening. I bitch about it all the time – website changes, rules changing, service changing, etc. Yet this economy bullshit seems to be the one thing that just won’t fucking change – argh!!!

Paul sent me some additional and highly disturbing links on PublishAmerica. There’s no sugar-coating, denying, or playing down the scammers that they truly are. So yes, I will eventually launch my own website and publish my own books and sell them myself, and no, I will definitely not release Digital Confessions to these leeches and sign their 7-year contract. I can’t believe they can legally get away with the shit they’ve been pulling! Google them and you’ll see what I mean. I’m not really all that surprised, though. After all, nothing comes that easy to me. Even the best authors out there don’t usually get published after just 3 tries. It usually takes 50-100 to pull it off the old-fashioned way. This is why I’m going to publish/sell my books myself, even if I don’t make more than just a few bucks. Besides, I know what I’m talking about when I say that while it certainly isn’t fair, I was meant to be poor and unsuccessful. The definite family loser.

As fucked up as it is, I couldn’t even succeed in fucking up by puking my dinner up so I can lose weight the easy way because it is just too damn gross. So I can’t succeed, and I can’t fuck up. Meanwhile, some couple in their 80s who already have a decent home won the 2010 HGTV dream home. beats head Ain’t life grand?

Later…

I didn’t bother to upload my pictures there in any kind of orderly fashion MyOpera, which I was checking out earlier. I didn’t realize it had a view counter for each picture. I’m surprised by how many have been viewed. Like maybe half or even more than half, and they have anywhere from 1-4 views each. I really shot some awesome desert scenery when we lived in Maricopa of some really gorgeous sunsets and storms. Looks so professional and like something you’d see on a postcard or a calendar.

I hate this time of my day. I’m not tired enough to sleep yet, but I’m also not awake enough to do anything constructive. I’m actually in the mood to write, but not my story. I don’t want to do anything that requires too much thinking right now like working on my book or studying languages. Maybe I’ll go look for something to watch on Hulu.

Molly's apparently following me closely on Formspring and probably my journal, too. Anyone who’s a friend of Alison’s gets stalked by this whack job, but at least she’s not sending me a zillion messages a day.