Stand by for ranting:
I've had a couple of cups of tea, I've read my mail, I've typed up a bit of fic. I'm still miserable. Except it's a cold winter frozen to the bones miserable rather than the white hot melting miserable I was all this morning. It's been a long morning.
This is how I got here: Friday was a long twelve hour day, but not without it's moments (qv my livejournal). After ten months of bashing my head against walls until I bled, I managed to get some stuff done in liason with a woman from Evil Dept X. Much fighting to get past male territorial issues re their little domains and from the look of my work in-box, I'm going to battered through round two today. Oh goody. All I want to do is fix up some of the html. Men!
Then it was off on a train to Newtown. Funny how, like London, the train will take you through good suburbs and bad suburbs. Newtwon station made me laugh though because there was an enormous poster for Sorority Boys up there. Too funny. Michael still reminds me too much of Drew though, dressed up all tarty like that. So, queueing up to get into the Chris Isaak concert. I'd wanted to go with a friend but as usual she had no time for me. Too bad cause I managed to get right up the front, crushed up against strange smelling grandpas. I dunno what was up with all the grandads, but she would have been happy, I'm sure. Me, I was happy to be right in front of Herschel and close enough to get covered in sequins, as Chris promised. I had a ball and danced away all night. Now this was fun. This was a show. This was showmanship and fave song after fave song. I even love the new stuff. I was in heaven. One of the best times I ever had at a concert. Great band, great songs, great show, and great spot. Everyone was saying it, that it was a fantastic show, one of the best this year, if not the best. Everyone was really into it and it just zinged.
After the show Chis did his signing thing (doofus forgot to byo her cds) so I bought a t-shirt and chatted with very nice folks and the band and got them to sign my t-shirt. So Chris of course draws a crown on his head on the t-shirt to remind me that he was the king. Subtle. I guess he was getting a bit annoyed at us calling out to the band, whom we all know from the show, of course. Told Chris I'd been a fan since Private Eye. He was dead impressed and shook my hand for my long service as a fan. That was amusing.
Found out he was going to be doing an appearance at Waringah Mall of all places, which brings me to Saturday. Blew off my doctor's appointment (I did show up but she was running nearly two hours later, fuck that) so I rang up a friend who'd promised that if I ever wanted to go to Waringah Mall they'd take me. Now, I'm thinking I suffer from Aspergers Syndrome because stupid me took them at their word. Sufferers are apparently very literal and I always believe it when people make promises. I just can't fathom why someone would say something and not mean it. It always distresses me. So idiot girl rings them and says today is the day. They grudingly agree but it'll cost me $100, which is probably what a taxi would have cost, but still. So I ditch them while they park the car and get there just in time to get a good spot with five minutes to spare. I discover I'd forgotten my digicam so no pictures. I was devastated. Now everyone knows I'm going to the Docs for my severe memory loss problems, and no bastard thinks to remind me to pack my camera. Feel the love. Still, Chris and the boys were amazing and I really enjoyed it. I'm such a fan. I always have Chris playing when I write. Got my CD signed and stood around chatting with the band, who were very nice and actually remembered me from the night before, for which I was chuffed. They're nice guys. Teased Roland over the ballroom dancing episode, and mortified himover the idea of a dvd release J.
I get dragged off by friend-for-hire but the most surreal part of the day comes when I queue up for coffee at Gloria Jeans and this guy turns around and starts chatting to me and after we've finally got our orders he pops off and rent-a-friend wants to know who the hell that was and it was Kenny. From the band. Neat. Nice guys, though I guess I was paying them to be nice, too. I woundlt mind the fee but I was copping a lot of abuse of the rent-a-friends, which was kinda making a taxi look like a better option, and I wasn't allowed to go shopping, not that I had any money left anyway. I suppose rent-a-friend thinks it funny to put me down hard every five seconds but I was seriously shattered. Still, went back to their place and let them copy my Smallville cds in exchange for some software so I can play the cds at home, I hope. Very impressed by their PC & tv set up. I like their new dog, I still don't like their old dog.
Went home via my ISP and found out he'd sold the business so I'll have to pay for all that space I use, which I don't think I can afford. It'll cost ne about a grand a year, if not more. Which means I'll have to take down my site.
Okay, I've lost my garden, gonna have to take down my site, none of my friends will hang out with me: they're either too wrapped up in their own deal, charge me for the privilege or are all going to slash functions I'm not welcome at. I wonder seriously what is wrong with me. I spend Sunday up in my room sorting through old magazines (why bother) and feeling ill. I get so ill and upset I wake up at 4am so ill I scare myself. I'm still in tears at 5am when I'm made to go into work. I want to stay home and watch tv like my brother but no way. "Did't you say you had work to do?" demands mother as she pushes me out the door. Yeah, sure. I've got to do all the programming I'm not good at and find so very very hard this week. No wonder I keep having to throw up. I tell her I'm upset over the weekend. She says it's my own fault and I should have just caught a taxi. True, but how about a little sympathy or comfort? Just a smidge? No. Out into the cold you go.
So I'm tired and scared and upset and wondering what's so wrong with me that my friends don't like me (I've been upset since last week when it was clear that friend wanted tapes and not dinner with me) and why I find work so hard. I know I must be doing something wrong but I can't see what, which is why I think I must have ASpergers. Certainly the rest of my family has it something chronic. But I do think my toxic friends could own some of their toxicity because you don't have to put me down or shun me all the time, not when I'm so fragile right now. There's something wrong with me and it scares me and work is a nightmare because it is not the job I signed on for. I just want to go home and write It is the only thing have in my life right now. Please don't take that away, too.