Wow, that was kind of scary. What the fuck was I so cranky/nasty/downright hateful about yesterday? I had these horrible physical sensations too. It basically felt like I was quitting smoking all over again. It was hell.
So, I stayed in my room watching movies on TBS. 10 Things I Hate About You...Heh. 3rd Rock From The Sun kid. Part of me, the part that likes lame movies, wanted to see it eight years ago. That part of me kind of enjoyed it, but being eight years older, I think I'd have enjoyed it more then than I did now. After that the Wedding Planner started. KC asked what it was and I said "The Wedding Plannie. With Matthew McConaughey and Jennifer Lopie." Which reminds me of "Damn you for ruining my words!"--to quote Emily. Which reminds me of when he called her Emil-o. I guess you can't add ee sounds to a word that already ends that way. I didn't feel like sitting through that hunk of junk and it was already, like, 5:00 and I was still greasy and in pj's, so I shut off the tele and ran a bath.
For a few minutes, clean and muscles loosened from the warm water, I thought the rest of the day would be alright. Lazy bitch that I am, I went back in the room to rot my brain some more. Some guys were downstairs playing new songs to each other. After some CSI or something, I watched the ECMAs.
Things were seeming alright. So long as I was alone, I wasn't cranky, although I was lonely and bored. But whenever anyone broke my trance, it took all my might to not freak out for no reason. My poor sweety. Having such a psycho spouse.
The rage really got bad as I watched the awards show. It's not that I was disappointed, having expected something so much better, it's more that I didn't expect it to be quite that bad. But, maybe it wasn't. Maybe it was my moodiness. That must be it. I've known for a long time that certain types of voices are adored by the GP and abhorred by me. And the costumes!! ARGGG! But, I can't complain about that. It's not like I don't put on costumes for shows.
Eventually, the boys were done playing and the hubby came to join me. I bitched. I tried not to bitch. I apologized. I told him it felt like crazy-ass withdrawal or something weird. I think it probably was. But withdrawing from something that is supposedly not addictive? Well, I always have been what I refer to as chemically sensitive.
After the ECMAs, we watched the CBC Sunday news while discussing going out or not. Part of my disappointment/crankiness stemmed from losing not one, but two plans to do something. I was so restless. I mean, fuck. I'd been sitting in the same spot on my bed ALL DAY. There was a fake awards show going on at Gus' and it could've been fun. After the fact, it sounds like it really was. But, we decided to stay in since we're fucking broke and had already agreed to go out tonight to Rockin' For $$$. At least if he plays that, our broke asses only have to pay a $2 cover, and he'll have free beer with no band to share it with.
Eventually, the ECMAs came on again, and I watched the first half with the guy who didn't watch it the first time. The cravings kicked in, and Charlie's was suggested. Small fits. ECMAs. I don't think I've ever watched the ECMAs all the way through, and this year I watched it 1.5 times. That's enough to fill me with rage, but interestingly enough, watching it with someone and therefore having someone agree with/laugh at my hateful comments about it cheered me up. After the Divorcees song (KC had to see the ridiculous outfit and hear the absurd accent), we searched for something else.
I love Mean Girls.
Last year, I posted the lyrics to a song I wrote when pretty much everyone at CHDHS was wearing Club Monaco sweatshirts (and rushing to be the first to get the new colour) and being mean to me. Which is funny having just brought up Mean Girls.
So, I stayed in my room watching movies on TBS. 10 Things I Hate About You...Heh. 3rd Rock From The Sun kid. Part of me, the part that likes lame movies, wanted to see it eight years ago. That part of me kind of enjoyed it, but being eight years older, I think I'd have enjoyed it more then than I did now. After that the Wedding Planner started. KC asked what it was and I said "The Wedding Plannie. With Matthew McConaughey and Jennifer Lopie." Which reminds me of "Damn you for ruining my words!"--to quote Emily. Which reminds me of when he called her Emil-o. I guess you can't add ee sounds to a word that already ends that way. I didn't feel like sitting through that hunk of junk and it was already, like, 5:00 and I was still greasy and in pj's, so I shut off the tele and ran a bath.
For a few minutes, clean and muscles loosened from the warm water, I thought the rest of the day would be alright. Lazy bitch that I am, I went back in the room to rot my brain some more. Some guys were downstairs playing new songs to each other. After some CSI or something, I watched the ECMAs.
Things were seeming alright. So long as I was alone, I wasn't cranky, although I was lonely and bored. But whenever anyone broke my trance, it took all my might to not freak out for no reason. My poor sweety. Having such a psycho spouse.
The rage really got bad as I watched the awards show. It's not that I was disappointed, having expected something so much better, it's more that I didn't expect it to be quite that bad. But, maybe it wasn't. Maybe it was my moodiness. That must be it. I've known for a long time that certain types of voices are adored by the GP and abhorred by me. And the costumes!! ARGGG! But, I can't complain about that. It's not like I don't put on costumes for shows.
Eventually, the boys were done playing and the hubby came to join me. I bitched. I tried not to bitch. I apologized. I told him it felt like crazy-ass withdrawal or something weird. I think it probably was. But withdrawing from something that is supposedly not addictive? Well, I always have been what I refer to as chemically sensitive.
After the ECMAs, we watched the CBC Sunday news while discussing going out or not. Part of my disappointment/crankiness stemmed from losing not one, but two plans to do something. I was so restless. I mean, fuck. I'd been sitting in the same spot on my bed ALL DAY. There was a fake awards show going on at Gus' and it could've been fun. After the fact, it sounds like it really was. But, we decided to stay in since we're fucking broke and had already agreed to go out tonight to Rockin' For $$$. At least if he plays that, our broke asses only have to pay a $2 cover, and he'll have free beer with no band to share it with.
Eventually, the ECMAs came on again, and I watched the first half with the guy who didn't watch it the first time. The cravings kicked in, and Charlie's was suggested. Small fits. ECMAs. I don't think I've ever watched the ECMAs all the way through, and this year I watched it 1.5 times. That's enough to fill me with rage, but interestingly enough, watching it with someone and therefore having someone agree with/laugh at my hateful comments about it cheered me up. After the Divorcees song (KC had to see the ridiculous outfit and hear the absurd accent), we searched for something else.
I love Mean Girls.
Last year, I posted the lyrics to a song I wrote when pretty much everyone at CHDHS was wearing Club Monaco sweatshirts (and rushing to be the first to get the new colour) and being mean to me. Which is funny having just brought up Mean Girls.
posted by crystal at
6:52 pm
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