rant3

Rant III

Another day I've spent beckoning hemorrhoids by sitting on my ass for vast amounts of time. For some reason, I won't give myself the priviledge of saying, "Oh well. It's summer." There's something depressing about lying on my dirty bed, in dirty clothes, watching trash TV. After acting like a bum for hours on end, I finally decided it was due time to shower and go interact with society. Sure, I'd gone downstairs to feed myself a couple times already, but I'd never had more of a conversation than a few grunts.
So, I got my shower and mosied on down the stairs to a timely dinner. The next half hour was spent munching down hamloaf and some vegetables while chatting meaninglessly with my parents. My old cello still hasn't found itself a home, the three of us agree that my cousin is a complete idiot lacking all social skills, and I'm slowly inching my way into the grasps of my new high school lifestyle. Hurrah. I do believe it's Internet time.
Of course, "Internet time" is temporarily postponed as I have to go outside and make sure my sick dog takes a shit and eats some bread. If you've ever seen a dog with a highly upset stomach shit, you know the extent of a truly disgusting scene. She wouldn't eat the god damned bread, either.
Vomit-inducers aside, I plopped myself down in front of my lovely, non-Mac, PC. I spent the next six or so hours playing trivial computer games, occasionally IMing Pam, and listening to MP3s. Whoopdeefriggin'doo. I hate days that leave me to think of things, for that's all I end up doing.
Sure, I was watching hick TV, but I wasn't concentrating on it. (I don't see how anyone could in the first place...) I'm craving something, but I don't know what. I've been left to think of how I miss Fritze, who's in Minnesota, the summer's lacking intellect, and something else that I can't quite place.
All right. I'm not fooling anyone. There shall no longer be an attempt at correct grammar or any sort of writing style. It's fucking 1:06 in the morning. I can't think, I just need to write.
So Fritze left on Friday. I wouldn't mind so much if I actually had something to occupy my mind. Obviously that little book of Mensa puzzles I have, Word, and the occasional Solitaire aren't cutting it. Eh, one could always convert into optimism and say that I'll have some sort of pent-up sexual energy when he gets back or something, but what the hell is that good for, other than an attempt at brief excitement? Kind of odd, I've been thinking, as I compare and contrast Alec and Fritze. How completely different both of them are...yet, in some sort of weird, skewed perspective, they're quite alike. How odd it is to think that just a year ago I let myself become engulfed in Alec's fucked up little world of mysticism and silence and now here I am letting my anger and resentment towards relationships melt once again. Damn it. I better quit. If I continue this paragraph, it'll soon resemble an obsessive mix of remorse and lust.
Completely off the subject, I went to Columbus on Saturday. My mom's side of the family was raised and, for the most part, still lives there. We have, I'd say, a few hundred acres out there with this old farm of my great-great grandfather's. The land was divided up and given to what family there is. Summers ago, I helped the rest of the family clean out the old, abandoned farm. The last occupant of the house, Flossie, was a daughter of my great-great grandfather. Blatantly an old maid, she sort of went insane and did one of those "never throw away anything, this is my dad's house, technology is bad" sort of deals. Anyway, she got really old and died in a nursing home. If you ask me, her life was completely shit and I have to feel sorry for her. So this last weekend I went down to help find temporary property markers and replace them with large, metal ones. I really didn't do anything but carry around a can of spraypaint. On the sections of land owned by my parents and my aunt, however, I did go hiking with my grandmother. It's amazing how beautiful it is. Supposedly there is this wonderufl view from the top of a giant hill, but I was too tired to cross the big ravine in between the little hill in my section, and the big one in my aunt's. Other than seeing the seemingly preserved settings of the homestead, that's all that was really enjoyable about the day. That is of course, unless you enjoy pulling ticks out of your hair, figuring out how to change a tampon in the woods of the hills, and amusing my child-like aforementioned cousin. Jesus, he's such a moron.
Hmmm. Well, I'm a dumbass for staying up so late. Perhaps I'll finish this later. I doubt it. Until my next installment of mindless drivel, farewell supposed readers.