|Tonight I am the world's biggest Craig Ferguson fan.
||[Nov. 20th, 2009|02:25 am]
It occurs to me that no one actually uses LiveJournal anymore, my friends page is just pictures and Momus' blog. I think writing here is the equivalent of a composition notebook at this point.|
Yesterday I tried to deposit all the change I've saved up, $16.50, and put it into the bank account I opened a few months ago, against my better judgment. There should have been $10 in there, making all the money I have $26.50. As it happens when I tried to put money on my monthly pre-paid phone last week it went through twice, for reasons unknown (or unknowable), and I got charged twice my bill and an over draft fee. So I deposited all my actual money and wound up with negative fifty dollars. C'est la vie. (I haven't paid my rent in months. Like, maybe half a year. I could be evicted without notice at any moment.) Partially because of this I didn't sleep last night. I played Heroes of Might and Magic V instead. This is the effect stress has on me.
This morning my mother came by. Knocked on my bed room door and let herself in, unexpected, as per usual. She stayed for five hours and told me this outrageous story about how a 40+ year old woman from her shelter had sex with a 20 something man in the parking lot of a Pearle Vision. She had heard there were videos on YouTube, but I couldn't find any. She also still thinks she might be getting unemployment pay after leaving her job without giving reason or notice. If that happens she says I can go back to Quincy College and get my associates in art and their surgery tech certificate in a year and a half, or two. This is what psychiatrists call "magical thinking". In any event, in two weeks she is moving out of the shelter to a group home.
I applied for a "personal assistant" job weeks ago. The emails I was getting from this character made me think it was too good to be true pretty quickly. Today in the mail I got two money orders for $990 each. The idea is I cash them and send part of the money to some other address. Luckily I'm not totally fucking retarded and realized they were counterfeit and I'm liable for the money if I cash them. I might frame them. The novelty astounds me.
Today I also got in the mail a recipe for blackened catfish and a packet of catfish rub from Sandra. I Thank you, wholeheartedly, and that is not a word I use every day. The biggest thing I've had to do for the past month (other than getting a job, of course) is finishing the shit I have to do to keep getting food stamps. Everyday I either call them and there's no answer, or I find some stupid fucking reason to not follow through. I'm not really clear on the process of these things, so I find myself paralyzed by the thought of it. A few months ago I could have walked into FoodMaster and taken anything I wanted, but all I spent it on was grilled cheeses and strudels.
Peter is going to Thailand for nine months soon, we've been hanging out. Two days ago I found that Jed's little black box in the living room still picks up a signal, even though there was that digital television whatever. Tonight we watched 30 Rock in real time for the first time. For my birthday Peter gave me a malt and Jed gave me some vodka. Thank you.
Two nights in a row I've watched Craig Ferguson's monologue. Why did none of my television viewing friends tell me what a genius he is? I think I'm going to do a few more entries during my birthday events. I've had some critters planned for a while. I am obviously overtired and drunk. 'Night.