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Raised by Wolves

Gaki: writing myself Real

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Upon further review, we have determined we don't have a position matching your skills at this time.


I was waiting for this call. I hate waiting for phone calls; I hate waiting for any rendezvous, in person or in the datasphere. Not because I hate waiting; I am incredibly patient, I am the lizard on the rock that you don't know is a lizard. Ahh, soo.

It's just one of my pet neuroses; that my meetings are not meant to happen correctly and Horrible Things will happen, Horrible Things Need to Happen, Fate itself wants me to be uneasy and ready to jump. Half an hour before an appointment I'm nervous, odd inside, because I know that the person has crashed their car, fallen asleep during a gas leak, OD'ed, gotten into a brawl with their lover, gotten into a brawl with their lover who isn't me when I thought it WAS, heart attacks, arrests, you name it, name the horrible thing, and it's happening in my head at some point in time because I don't know where you are.

At the moment of rendezvous, I am at a self-destructive vibratory pitch. Because it's almost over, the waiting, it has to be over. And then the inevitable slide into madness, as the seconds tick by into minutes, and no one is there and I keep trying to distract myself with whatever book or notebook I have brought to read or write or peoplewatching to keep myself busy, all while THE WORST is happening, you're having a conversation about how you hate meeting up with me because I'm such a fucking bore, the prospective employer is snorting coke off his secretary's thigh while not noticing his lit glass pipe is blackening the name off of my resume on his desk, some homeless insane sicko named Reginald has caltropped the I-80, causing your car to swerve and crash into a tree, and is riding and rutting your bleeding corpse at THAT EXACT SECOND while I sit finishing my goddamned coffee that sucks anyway, and there is NOTHING I CAN DO ABOUT IT.

This is a genetic insanity which I doubtless inherit from my parents, who kept me locked in a 10 x 10 cage on a deserted ranch property and fed me Easy Cheese and fish heads for a great part of my childhood in order to keep me safe. Apart from my occasional coyote visitors, my only other conversant was my brother, and though we could occasionally pass the time rattling out harmonious patterns on the cage bars or playing Final Fantasy III with two controllers, I had precious little chance to develop adequate social behaviors, and plenty of time to foster the belief that whenever someone dear is not within my direct line of sight, they may die, due to my lack of vigilance. It is my vast imagination that ensures the death will be a horrible one.

But, my point. My point is that, I didn't expect to be upset about this particular phone call, of a professional nature and limited interest to me. Only on reflection, only on realizing how much I regret not having received it, do I realize I actually wanted it. Because I had begun to entertain the notion that it might actually change my life. And because only then did I seriously realize how much I might be looking forward to a life change.

One of my other great delusions, you see, that settles upon me nearly every year, is the "starting all over" delusion. That if I just start ANOTHER new job, in another new place, near different people once more, then everything will magically begin to rock. New adventures will occur, new experiences will open up, fun stuff will happen everywhere, and we will all be one step closer to the dream, of building an island where all the smart, interesting, badass, capable, sexy, caustic but secretly sensitive people will all live, from time to time using our madd superspy skillz to raid the mainland on stylish and charming missions for great justice.

And the thing is, that DOES happen to me a lot -- not the island, yet, but the relocation, new situations, and adventures. Hell, I've got not only tolerable but wonderful friends, am usually decently paid according to my needs (which are admittedly basic), and have lived in some the most interesting cities in this country and a few others. It's just that my mercurial mood is like me in 5th grade; hand off the ball, and he drops it a second later, and hears only the jeering of the crowd. My manic traveling spirits descend into tiredness and fear, and then all I want is a regular warm bed and a routine and a touch of comfort. Until I get sick of it, and want something new.

Today, Nobody called me to tell me that I will never be happy with the way things are, as long as I live. And that makes me quietly sad, and it makes me smiley and happy, all at the same time. Often, when you catch me laughing at nothing (which occurs a disconcerting amount of the time), that's what I'm laughing at.

Isn't that stupid?

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Excellent image. I enjoyed reading this, but the best part was seeing your kitty-doppleganger all woozy from intoxication. I love drunk kitties.

You own me, you know.

Here. Have a panda. Their remorse over the election will make them FIERCE!

I hate everybody but the pandas.

I love your brain, can I come visit?

I love your brain, can I come visit?

I'll need to find it first. It started smoking after I tried to navigate the mall parking lot to meet a friend for lunch today; I threw it at pair of cars blocking traffic both ways in the middle of an intersection, and haven't been able to find it since...

Yes. You may visit anytime. Maybe even borrow it if you can't find yours. (Throwing things at burning carsBut...I'll need it back. ::nod.::

(Just took an order for a Dibartolo in NYC... ::hmm...:: The irony of my life these days. Like Rosemary on Lamp-post street...)

Is that you in a suit? Izzit? Reeeally?

Kid, ya clean up good, yanno. ;D

Hey, I don't recommend coming to Oregon for any jobs in your field there (though it's a pity we couldn't have such jobs available here) but if you ever get the wanderings in ya, we'll be around. And feel free to drag anyone you wish with you.

Keep your head up, dove. We are never given more than we can handle...as long as we know we don't have to handle stuff alone.

I don't actually own a suit jacket, but no one seems to mind much if I just wear a trenchcoat to formal occasions.

Heh, my travel schedule will depend largely on whether or not I'm employed come January; here's hoping I can borrow some of your gambler's luck in that regard...

Bah. Wasn't luck. Idon't believe in luck, afterall. ;)

Roulette just makes more sense to play it slow and bet easy. Bet the outside...Black/Red or Odd/Even. Split between numbers. Put a chip on the interesction of the squares. bet straight up if you feel like it. Be glad when you win, don't sweat it if you lose. Set a limit to your losses and what you start with is the best limit to fall back to once you have won some.

As for visiting. Hey, we've casino's here. Kill two birds with one stone.:)

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Gods. People actually read this thing?

Thanks for wasting the time. ^_^ Stop by anytime, add if you feel like it.

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