11/4

No worky tonight. We're all taking the night off. This works out OK for me because I'm kind of sick ... I'm congested, sneezy, hot (but not feverish), tired and headachy. Also I want to stay home and keep an eye on the turtle, who is not looking so healthy himself. Either he is shedding and unhappy or he has some sort of fungal disease and is unhappy. I wonder if there are any terrapin vets in Honolulu.

Spoke to Peahen last night. She's had three car wrecks since the last time we talked (which was months ago, but that's still a ridiculously short time span to go through four different cars.) None were her fault (except the first one, indirectly, because she let her bonehead boyfriend drive her adorable Del Sol.) But with every wreck her cars increased in value but for some reason she's on her third CRX now. She says she loves it. I reminded her that she used to make fun of that car. She said she remembers.

So I filled her in on whatever's happened since we last talked. She filled me in on which alumni (nae?) sprang forth from the closet into the SEA/TAC area. I told her about running into the classmates ("married!" she gasped.) So we talked about that stuff for awhile until she wondered out loud, "I wonder if anyone has died?" When I screeched at this she said "Well there were 130 something of us. It's been six years. Someone must have died, don't you think?"

I cracked up. Not that dead classmates are funny, just that only Peahen would wonder such a thing with the same expression as I wonder who got married. Personally I think if anyone had died we would have heard about it. There are only 130 something of us.

So tonight instead of working and instead of seeing Eugene's Brother I'm going to finish "Confederates in the Attic" and learn how to use my grandmother's sewing machine. Maybe I'll light the new Tommy Bahama pineapple candles I got as a present from the Divas' stepmom.

Speaking of worky, I did a bad thing. A couple of bad things. First of all, I double-booked for this weekend. Not a true double-book, but I took two jobs on the same day (and Saturday is the day I have class from 8-12. The day where I fight traffic all the way home and crash on the couch till dinnertime.) So I will be up at 6 for class at 8, be in class till 12 and work from 1-4:30, and work again from 6 to whenever Makana is over at the Hawaii Theatre. argh.

And the second bad thing I did was taking a regular Saturday job. So that 1-4:30 thing? That's every Saturday. argh argh.

11/5

Found an "exotics" vet near Kahala Mall. Shumai has an appointment tomorrow. He seemed better today -- he even woke me up this morning by jumping up and down and scattering his gravel. So I got up and fed him and discovered that I didn't have a headache. Which means I'm getting better, which is a good thing because it's back to work tomorrow.

So I was thinking to myself about girlfriendness. Several things. I've been a lousy girlfriend lately, but let's not talk about that. ha. I was watching S&TC (again) because I just love season 3, not just because Chris Noth, you know, well, not just because of Chris Noth. There's just something so cathartic about watching those episodes, or is that revealing a little too much about myself?

Anyway, damn. what was I going to say about season 3? I've totally forgotten.

Well, I sort of remember what I was thinking about girlfriendness. And having filtered it through Chris Noth's laundry and what have you, daydream daydream ... er, I mean, it seems kind of pointless now but what better place for a pointless thought than my journal? Alrighty. The thought was this: I know I'm lucky to be in a relationship with very few wrinkles, no serious problems ... but sometimes I wish something would come along and, well, upset me. Make me jealous. SOmething.

This is not a well-formed thought. I don't think I actually want something to come along and cause problems for me, no. I just think it would be interesting. I'm not actually asking for it. Do you kind of know what I mean? I've never been jealous, where he is concerned. Even when M(issing) turned up at the movies and got him to take her to a restaurant that wasn't McDonalds, I wasn't jealous, I was pissed that anyone would want to appear so needy. And I was pissed that I was eating McDonalds food. (does that count as jealousy? maybe that does.)

Everything just sails along, more or less. The things that irritate me about him have never had anythign to do with other people or other interests or anything like that. I've never said "I wish you would pay more attention to me" because honestly sometimes I think we could stand to pay less attention to each other.

This thought isn't going anywhere. I really appreciate him (note: taking someone or something for granted is NOT the same as not appreciating them. You can take your relationship for granted, as in count on it to be okay without obsessing over it every second of the day because i mean, you have a life, don't you? and at the same time still be very appreciative that you have this relationship, this person. Know what I mean, Vern?)

When I was with D, I was jealous of a lot of stuff. The calendar bimbos, the real-life bimbos, even, in some ways, his friends. The calendar girls, it goes without saying why I disliked them, and the real-life "bimbos" turned out to be decent people. This left his friends, and while they were mostly all really cool I had the most significant problem with them in some ways because they knew him so well. They knew these parts of his personality that I hadn't figured out how to tap. They knew how to get around his moods, they knew how to laugh off his sharpness. I couldn't. But maybe the biggest thing was that while he always put me first, he always had a whole other life. He was never the biggest people person, but for some reason, so many people liked him. And I was jealous of this stuff till this one company Christmas party where he had to go up onstage and do this silly "freshman rap" (because he was new at the company) and he got more applause and catcalls than anyone else. And I saw that I was really lucky to have this person that liked me so much, that I liked so much, that other people liked so much. In whatever way they liked him. It didn't matter, because he was with me. So after that, pretty much, I learned to appreciate the fact that he had work, he had friends I had nothing in common with, he had all these interests I wasn't a part of. It made him a more interesting person. And while I wasn't ever suspicious of anything wrong if he got home super late or something, I always wondered where he had been and what he had been doing. Like painting a mental picture for myself. It was a good thing.

E's B is totally different. I always know where he is. There's nothing wrong with that. But there are no surprises either. I mean there are gift surprises and stuff like that, but no ... mundane surprises if there can be such a thing. Like I can ask him what he did today but what's the point ... I know what he did today. (I knwo what the point is, I'm just trying to make a point.)

I'm never jealous of E's B, E's B has no calendar girls. In fact, he decorates his space with images of some chick who looks a suspciously lot like me, it's enough to give a girl a complex, haha. I don't kid myself and believe him when he says he never looks (besides, that would make me uncomfortable ... I mean, I look. It's healthy.) It's just that ... we're it. I never get pre-empted for a night out with the guys, he never wants time for himself, he doesn't talk to other people on the phone much, doesn't hang out with people from work or school. He's not a stalker or anything ... that kind of makes a funny picture, actually. Anyway, that's how it is ... It's not a good thing, not a bad thing. Or maybe it's occasionally both. Sometimes I wish I would get pre-empted for a night out with the guys or something, that's all. Why? I don't know.

tbc, maybe.

11/6

I took Shumai to Dr. Kaya at Aloha. I think I will start taking everybody to him because he's great. He said Shumai is OK but that his diet could be improved (more live food, less reptomin). But he's strong and healthy and I have no need to worry, though I should improve his tank and vary his diet. We also spent a long time just chatting about other animals, about school and work, things like that. He xeroxed a care sheet for me, too.

I'm killing the tbc topic for now. In fact, I'd delete it if that weren't totally against every journal-writing principle I hold. If it isn't obvious why I'm shelving it for now, it's because it upset someone. I don't recall saying I was bored with him or that he was boring but I can see how one might interpret what I said as such, so I'm trying to be sensitive. Or, seeing as how I'm having a hard time with that, I'm trying to at least not be a total bitch. Though one would think that this being my journal and all, I could be whatever I damn well pleased. But I'll try to make that the last overly self-indulgent thought I actually express for awhile.

Scrolling back, I can see that the way I described him was not very complimentary. Even the good things, I made them sound bad. And apparently I sound very ungrateful. Hm, yes I do. And somewhat twisted (I mean, who complains that their boyfriend is really into them?) That was a trick question. I wasn't complaining. I was watching TV and thinking, what if things were different? Things are good, but if things were different maybe things would be good in a different way. That's what I was thinking. Kind of like if you have sparkling grape juice at a party and you say out loud "This is good sparkling grape juice. I like sparkling apple juice, too." Is that a complaint?

Maybe it wasn't like that. Scroll up again, OK, it was not exactly like that. Do I want this to be about sparkling grape and apple juice, or do I want it to be about the pros and cons of journal censorship?

One, the journal-type thing is pretty much the place to go when you're not happy with something and you're not ready or willing or able to confront the store manager, your boyfriend, your girlfriend, your boss, and P.S. I did not in this case say I was unhappy. Two, what if your boyfriend or your boss reads your journal? Three, so what? Four, well, actually, therein lies the stupid problem.

On the one hand, I get irritated when someone takes something I said not in direct conversation with them and gets mad about it. On the other hand that's like saying that if someone tells someone else you're fat, ugly and stupid, you have no right to be upset because well, that person didn't say it to you. And I'll be the first to admit I get really pissed when my mom and brother talk about me when I'm not around. Of course they don't call me fat, ugly or stupid. But then, I never called Eugene's Brother boring.

I think it's one of those things that won't go away as long as someone has a journal and chooses to express certain things in it instead of talking it over with the person it concerns. But then actually, if it actually concerned him I would have talked to him about it. Like, if I wanted things to change, I would have said, let's change things. But do I actually want him to run around with a bunch of girls? Do I want him to cheat on me? Do I want him to start hanging out with the guys all the time? No, no, no, no. I'm pretty sure I said that yesterday: NO. Does this mean I'll never post another not-well-formed thought? NO. What DOES it mean? I don't know. Is this irritating? Yes. Am I being self-absorbed and bitchy like I said I wouldn't? Yes. Why? Because it's MY FUCKING JOURNAL and I CAN. That's just the point I was trying to make. Doesn't solve my problem but maybe I don't actually have one.

In sunnier news, I have a take-home exam that's not due till two weeks from now. In not-so-sunnier news, one of my favorite classmates just dropped Fred Savage's class. School is beating me to a pulp. It's kind of fun, except for the getting sick part, the never seeing my boyfriend part, the boyfriend getting cranky because school is beating him to a pulp too part. Hey! Here's an idea! Why don't I just never talk about him here? That's not really censorship. It's just careful editing. Hm.