Huh. This is so weird. My parent’s are moving apart, after 25 years of marriage. I suppose 25 years is an even, round, and good number to decide not to live together anymore on. They’re not getting divorced, and I don’t think they’re breaking up either. They were unclear on that subject. They’re just not going to live together anymore. They tried to make it not such a big deal, but I don’t know. It feels like a pretty massive deal to me. I don’t even get WHY it does; I mean, I haven’t lived with them since 2003, they promised to spend holidays together, and mumbled something about Sunday dinners. To ME everything will, at least practically, be the same, at least until they decide whether to actually get divorced or not. Still it feels like nothing will ever be the same again. I can’t really wrap my head around it. I forget it, and then it pops back up again. I’m 25, dagnabbit, I’m too old to be a kid in this situation. I won’t have to lug my things between apartments, I won’t have to decide which parent to spend Christmas with, there are, weirdly enough to be my family, no hard feelings involved. And everything still feels broken.

And when I got back home after the family meeting thing at the house where Mom won’t live anymore, Dad called and said his mother had fallen at the living facility she’s at, and maybe has a broken something. This day is the weirdest ever.


Oh, I’m in such a pissy mood right now. My laptop gave up and died this Saturday, after three and a half years of (all in all) loyal service. I suppose three and a half years for a laptop is okay, but I’m SO not ready to let go. I managed to get in and back up the few photos I’d saved after re-installing in May, and my Sims 2 game, so nothing important was lost. Except all my bookmarks, which I forgot to back up. The shittiest part, though, is that Boyfriend’s laptop is away on service, so now we have to fight over Ye Olde Desktoppe, that’s too old and cranky to even run the Sims2. I’m having serious withdrawal. I installed the game in the vain hope that it somehow MAGICALLY would run, despite it all, and I got it to start, but… actual playing was like looking at a slide-show, even with all the settings set to the minimum. Call the waaahmbulance, ’cause I’m seriously dying here.

We’re also beginning to suspect that our house is, in fact, built on top of the Gates to Hell. The entrance and stairwell is littered with passive aggressive notes, as well as the laundry room, and Bitchy Neighbour Downstairs is whining that SillyDog is too loud when moving around the apartment after SEVEN O’CLOCK in the evening. Boyfriend’s been attacked by various Know-it-alls who try to tell him how to handle dogs while walking SillyDog – the entire neighbourhood seems to consist of whiny, bitchy, butthurt crybabies. And the most annoying thing since we moved here? All our electronics break. Seriously. First it was the espresso machine, then Boyfriend’s macbook, and now my laptop.

And because both fixing the laptop and upgrading Ye Olde Desktoppe would involve changing motherboards, there’s no point in even thinking about it. I’m trying to impress the importance of having at least ONE decent computer in the household on my dad, but he doesn’t seem to understand. He offered my brother’s old computer, which pretty much has the same specs as Ye Olde One.

And Boyfriend’s mother and father is here to visit, too. I like them, I really, really do, but there are PEOPLE in my HOME when I want to be alone and sulk about not getting my daily Sims2-fix.


We took SillyDog to a groomer today, to cut his nails. SillyDog was NOT amused. We put a muzzle on him just to be on the safe side, so instead of bite marks I have scratches from his panicked flailing. He snagged my lip, too. When we were done, I was dripping with sweat and bleeding from the mouth. Boyfriend got the back end of SillyDog, so he escaped unscathed. The groomer told us that we should have made SillyDog accept getting his nails clipped earlier. Nah, ya think? It’s not like we wanted to have a 33 kg Cerberus-like dog that doesn’t like to get his nails clipped. If we didn’t really, REALLY had to get help with it, we’d have done it ourselves. We’ve only had him for six months, and that is plenty of time to work on getting a dog to let you cut his nails, if that is the only problem that dog has. We had some more pressing issues with SillyDog when we got him; such as teaching him to walk on a leash, understanding other commands than “shake”, and getting him to communicate in ANY other way than with his teeth. Somehow, clipping his nails was not our highest priority. We made due with filing them instead.

I suppose the groomer would have been more sympathetic if we had explained all this, but with her tone of voice, that didn’t really seem like an option. I’m also intrigued by the notion that we should somehow already have worked on this; as if we could somehow have already done it, just because she told us we should have.

Anyway, we went to a nearby coffee shop afterwards, to reward ourselves for surviving the ordeal. The coffee shop is close to the water, and when SillyDog got tired of sitting still and having coffee like civilized people, we went down to the water to let him bark at the waves. Well, that’s what he usually does, anyway. Up until now, he’s seemed to be afraid, or at least deeply skeptical¬† of water larger than that in his water bowl, but this time he went right in, kicking with his front legs to make it splash, and putting his nose in it and blowing bubbles. We’ll go with him to bathe again, with a longer leash so he can swim some, too.

SillyDog was very, very tired when we got back home. We fed him a bunch of treats to compensate for cutting his nails, and then he fell asleep under the desk, all curled up.

About two years ago I started to not want to leave my apartment. It wasn’t that I wanted to stay home, I just didn’t want to go anywhere. I’ve always handled my shitty moods and stuff with wanting to go out, seeking out places where there are lots of people and preferably alcohol involved. I used to go to pubs several nights a week. I made stupid jokes. I got drunk. I made out with strange people just to see if I could. I studied hard, I worked hard and partied even harder. I was fun to be around. It wasn’t always so fun to be me; especially not when I ended up going home with people I really shouldn’t have gone home with, like a friend-turned-fuckbuddy’s brother. Oops.

But then I got fed up. I started having more panic attacks (not knowing that was what it was, of course), my stomach started acting up; I had to call in sick for work because I threw up in the morning when I realized I had to go there. Basically, my body was like “WTF dude, you need to calm down”. And gradually, going out started losing it’s charm. It was more pain than it was worth. I rather stayed at home, reading, internetsing, just doing nothing.

At first there was no problems with keeping in touch with my friends, they came over and played video-games, or had coffee, or just hung about. It was nice.

But recently, I’ve started noticing we’re drifting apart. They don’t call me, and I stopped calling them when I realized they had so much going on they almost always had to turn me down when I suggested we’d hang out. It sucks. I know I’m probably not the most fun person to be around right now, seeing as all I do is play the Sims, chat online or take walks with the dog, but I thought we had a friendship that relied on more than getting drunk together. It just doesn’t happen much right now, basically. I can’t tell them stories of all the stupid things I did while drunk, or at all, because my best ones they’ve already heard or saw happening; and I don’t do stuff like that anymore. I’d really like to spend time with them still, and if they’d just ask me, I’d probably tag along on stuff they do. But they don’t ask me. Or they ask Boyfriend if WE want to do stuff, and when he says he can’t but they should ask me, nobody asks.

I don’t want to whine, I don’t want pity, I just want my fucking friends back. I know I could just pick up the phone and call, but it sucks hearing them say they don’t have time to see me. I’d like to have some dignity left.

And then I saw them all today on the yearly picnic/soccer-thing. And I realized we don’t have that much in common anymore. They still lead the kind of life I did two years ago, and I sit around and do nothing. I guess these things happen. People grow apart, move, get married, have kids and stop being friends. But it sucks so bad.

And I miss them. I miss the me I was with them, too.