Sunday, Feb. 23, 2003 - 4:25 p.m.
This has been edited in post to reveal that this entry seems really mean when I look at it a few hours later, and just know that it isn't meant to, and it is heavily dosed with sarcasm. Read on!
There isn't anything of importance to say today... I think I'm okay with that, actually, because there is nothing better than a relaxed, overcast Sunday afternoon. I can't really get ahold of anyone I know today, which I would be okay with on a normal basis if I wasn't leaving the state in 5 days to move across the country. It is really starting to hit home. Currently, I am writing this entry from the hardwood floors of my apartment while watching Ghost, because my computer, television, and clothes have no place to rest than in boxes or scattered all over the floor. I sold my desk, dresser, and TV stand on Craigslist and Eric, the guy who purchased them, picked them up today. Moving them was quite the hassle, let me tell you. First of all, I was greeted with a typical, "You look REALLY familiar!" That was followed by a not-so-typical, "I've been here before... in THIS VERY APARTMENT... WEIRD, do you know Danny Somethingorother?" Yeah... that's one I've never heard before. Soon afterwards, the levity was dropped, because he suddenly decides to tell me that he isn't taking the dresser. "Someone else gave me one for free last night, sorry!" I get very flustered, because I have turned down numerous people for the dresser alone, preferring to sell them all together instead of having a bunch of strangers come to my apartment whenever they damn well please to pick up a piece here or there. So I call James. The Boyfriend. I have discovered that anything I can't take care of alone can be solved by bringing up The Boyfriend From Out Of Town. I'm a pretty big girl, so I guess people give me the benefit of the doubt that my boyfriend will be a huge Gulliver-Amongst-The-Lilliputians kind of man and in turn, give me whatever I desire in fear of being beaten into a bloody pulp by The Boyfriend. "I want to buy my boyfriend this guitar for Christmas, but he knows a lot about guitars and won't allow me to pay more than $300 for everything, set-up with size eleven strings and tuned to perfection. Is that okay? He said he'd be really mad at me if I did, and he wouldn't accept it." "Oh, lil' lady, don't look so sad. We wouldn't want that boyfriend getting mad at you for anything! Here, $300 even it is." James does not like being made into an unreasonable monster, but I told him that it ultimately works out to our benefit, so he's just going to have to allow me to paint him as a big meany to total strangers. So anyway, this Eric character decides to screw me over at the last possible minunte. He could have told me the 20 or so times we'd talked on the phone prior to his showing up in my apartment, but no. I think he was hoping I'd be a sucker or something. Hell no! I called James! I feigned serious disappointment, sighed dramatically, "Well, yes, I know he SAID he wanted all of them, but NOW he says he DOESN'T, so how much should I charge him for the seperate pieces? $75? Is that good?" Eric Person says, "Uhm, yes, I guess that's fair." Oh, you GUESS that's fair? I think it would be FAIR if I kicked your ass outta here for yanking my chain! But alas, I need to get rid of them, and I decide I will have to put this dresser back up on Craigslist the second this kid gets out of here. He goes downstairs and down the street to an ATM while I vent my frustrations to James. Then the kid comes back decides that he'll take the dresser, too, because he put me in a bad position and felt bad. Well, it is nice that he decided to take the dresser, but why the hullaballoo? I just don't understand why he would do that... I'm charging $115 for a room full of necessary furniture. That was the price we'd negotiated down to---$35 less than what I'd asked for them! And still, people want to drive me nuts. So I pulled the Boyfriend card. As much as two wrongs don't make a right, I still felt hella good about doing a little manipuation of my own. I get taken advantage of all the time and for the first time in my life, I'm finally starting to take a stand! Viva La Resistance!
I just finished eating the most disgusting sushi in the world. Seriously, folks, they used lox in the salmon rolls. If I don't die of a tapeworm before the next time I have sushi, I will definitely have to remember that one should not purchase sushi from a grocery store, especially one where you can't find a single employee around to lead one to the conclusion that it was even made by actual Japanese people. I think it has been statistically proven that Japanese people eat in sushi restaurants where there are other Japanese, preferably behind the counter. Technically, you can tell that about any form of ethnic cuisine. The Thai places down the street from me are good. How can you tell? Because actual Thai people eat there! Thai people aren't going to get Thai food from a restaurant with Americans in the kitchen. They just aren't. It goes against all laws of common sense, and I don't give two shits if everyone in the world regards that last paragraph as a racist statement.
I had a conversation about this the other day with my friend Abe, who happens to be black, because I know he has a lot of valid opinions on the subject of race. I've tried talking about it with a lot of other people, but most of them are white and too PC to find the humor in such a sensitive topic as race. I make a lot of comments on race. I don't deny it, and I don't deny that I probably look like some sort of racist solely because I'm white and I don't whisper the word "black" when talking to other white folks about brown folks when there are a few in the vicinity. [If you're from the Midwest, you will understand this practice, because this is what white people in towns with 2% of the population consisting of people of color do when talking about anyone contained in that percentage of the population.] I think race is funny. I think ethnicity is hilarious. Everyone makes fun of Jews and Italians (or kikes and guidos, however you want to look at it) and I don't understand why I can't joke about race as long as it isn't offensive. Every Asian friend I've ever had in the past has had such a sense of humor about it. "Damn, why the hell isn't this pen working for me???" "Because you're Asian!" Laughter ensues. I will never get over the humor of race. People are funny. There are things about people that aren't negative but yet somehow out of our control and are based on culture and heritage, and if you can't find the humor in it, you are putting restrictions on the amount of living you're doing. Now I'm not saying that I use racially offensive terms. I don't. I always forget the "kike" thing anyway, and I've never used the n-word in my life. I'm sure there are tons of other ones... I don't know, I never use them. But Jim and I can declare it Racist Bigot Day and no one else will get it. We're not racists or bigots, and I make fun of Jim's sexuality constantly, along with his Germanic heritage, while he goes nuts over my Italian roots and the whole Jew thing. I do have another friend (who will remain nameless, because this is negative commentary) who, when allowing me to vent about my parking ticket dilemmas, said in reference to the California Transportation Department, "Well, that's pretty Jewish of them!" He uses the n-word constantly, and it honestly keeps me from hanging out with him more than once or twice a month. He, dear friends, is a racist. But when Jim and I declare it R.B.D., it isn't the same. We say, "Crazy woman drivers! Crazy Asian drivers!!" And then laugh, because we don't really mean it, and it is fun for a day to play like we ARE mean, road raging racists. Its a game, based on acting and trying to keep a straight face while saying terrible things about everyone, including our own races, genders, and sexualities. I guess I don't care if no one gets it and that it is something Jim and I alone will understand, but I wonder why that is, and if we are more accepting or just terrible racist bigots. I am banking on the former, but whatever. Judge at your own discretion. I think its funny.
I think The Move is starting to sink in now... not so much the future of it, but the present. I feel like everything is coming to a close here in LA, and the reality of the Road Trip is starting to rear it's interesting head, but damn, still drawing a blank on life in New York. I am feeling more brave, though, that is for sure. I make sure to take a bit of a walk here in LA every day by myself, even if it is just down the street for some coffee. It doesn't seem like much, but living in LA, one doesn't need to walk EVER, so I don't go out alone-alone. I've always got my trusty vehicle, giving me 4 walls between me and the rest of the world at all times. No walking the streets, no people interaction unless I say so... you just don't have to put up with anything you don't want to put up with, unless its traffic, which is to be expected. I'm beginning to find the proper mindset, though, for true city life. I think I am going to be okay in New York. I'm getting less and less worried every day.
In preparation of our trip, I have been downloading '80's tunes like mad for the past couple of days. I've got enough Journey, Genesis, U2, Prince, Pat Benetar, Micheal Jackson, and The Cure to last me a lifetime and a half. James is mad that I'm burning them into mixes... he has all the albums already. ;) Damn, we're perfect for each other! Blech, even I am getting bored with my ramblings today... I just felt like doing something that didn't involve crap-ass sushi today, but I think I'll leave the journal be for the meantime. I will definitely write soon, though, because I am working on a new format for this site (something more professional) and James is going to help me HTML it all together. Soon, kiddies, very soon! Sorry, I can't figure out what's wrong, once again, I went too far. You don't read the old ones anyway. ;)