:: Searching for Puck... ::

:: Thursday, May 05, 2005 ::

Hate hate anger hate.

I'm not English Club president anymore. They voted in two people, one of whom I have never seen at a single english club meeting, because they were the only two running, even though I'd all but carved into my forehead that I was planning on remaining, to both Suzanne and Rick. Rick wouldn't even take me up on my months-long offer of a drink after the last English Club, and I was properly meant to feel like I didn't exist. Nevermind the money I'd shelled out of pocket on food for every meeting all semester, hey, why should I remain president? I only called out of work to help with the convention, after all. Let's forget all the random crap I've done, all the things and personal time I've sacrificed, all the times I've run around like a headless chicken to make sure things work. You know what? FUCK ALL OF IT. I AM MEANINGLESS.

::dusts off her hands:: Now that I'm through with that particular unpleasantness..


Joey had, as of a day and a half ago, decided not to sell his car. His father talked to him and, lo and behold, all of a sudden he wants to sell it again. His father's on the phone like a fucking pimp trying to procure new whores, finding every truck in the tri-state area for Joey to buy. Instead of seeing a movie, like he had told me we would, we were driving out to South River (father in tow while I was in the backseat, of course) to look at some piece of shit the guy was trying to pass off as a great truck, and...ohhh..what a massive surprise...we ended up at guitar center and came home with a NEW BASS. I'm fucking beside myself with joy. Now I can hear frank fucking zappa 24/7 in a whole different tone breadth with the decibel three goddamn degrees to the left.

I asked Joey to look for places on the net where we could go for a trip tonight into tomorrow, this being the first time in probably at least 6 months where we've been able to, and he didn't get a chance to look. But, of course, he managed to find the specs on this truck and mapquest to South River and time to call the guy about the truck. Not only that, but we stopped to look at a truck from World Auto Sales on the way home. When this whole truck business first started, Joey was looking at a certain place and his father told him absolutely not, he heard from a friend's cousin's brother or something that it was a bad place. Joey wouldn't get that truck. Yet there's no problem at considering a place that sold a 20 year old young woman a car for over the blue book value WITHOUT AIRBAGS and a BROKEN SEATBELT MECHANISM that was supposedly "fixed" twice, both of which sent her flying into the dashboard in a lowspeed crash, leaving her with bruises all over her chest, an ER hospital visit, and breathing issues for two months? Namely, ME. The car was MY ESCORT.

I'm rapidly getting into a very foul mood about the way things are going, if you couldn't tell.

~Fox
:: Fox 5/05/2005 11:09:00 AM [Say what?] ::
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