"You can't have people living in a town who say when a fire breaks out, 'Whatever you do, don't call the fire department.'" Steve Martin in Roxanne

I'm in a mood. I spend two hours on IM not counting the phone call I received on wednesday morning (the only morning I get to sleep in during the week, which with my sleeping disorder means a great deal to me, and he calls me three THREE times until I finally answered.) and the visit in my office that afternoon. He asked me if I could go to lunch the next day "so that I won't have to call you tonight." Oh giving me the night off, how magnanimous of you, particularly considering that you prior to this march you never actually called me for any reason period, even when I was walking around looking like a ghost. And today. after all this, even though last night he promised me lunch, today he comes in a shakes my hand and disappears. Just like all my other "patients" they take what they need and go. But like my father, when they leave I experience it as relief, as they are so incredibly needy and I don't have the energy to get myself up in the morning never mind prop up someone else's self esteem or optimism. In a way, he much better off than I am, first because he has a daugher and therefore he has something more important than the romantic relationship, something incredibly rewarding and worthwhile that he has regardless of the romance, also he has his "relgisious" beliefs. I on the other hand, am no longer even an agnostic, so my suffering doesn't even have purpose, unless I give it purpose. And he's online last night with me arguing about how it isn't fair. HE is 42, and he is telling me it isn't fair? Didn't you notice before now? I mean, it's not like injustice, particularly unjust suffering, is particularly well hidden. Not to mention think about who he is saying this to. You want to talk to a 4 foot six disabled girl about unfair? You want me to tell you about my childhood? I don't think so. At least here he had a choice. But he said he would take me to lunch for payment for "services rendered" and is he here? No. Yesterday he came seeking me out in the lab for advice (even though I was hiding in the lab expressly to avoid that particularly situation) and today he is gone. I do my job and then the patient leaves until they get sick again and then I get the phone calls in the night and the two hours IMs.

Feeling better this week. Not depressed like last week, but more enraged. WHen I'm angry I appear to other people to be "in a good mood" which makes me thinks that the anger is at least energizing so I appear to be "up" even when it means I'm "up" to smacking someone else in the face. I will dancing with Edi tonight (my favorite) and then after that I'm heading to our name is mud for adults night (I'm hoping it will be funa nd not all dates-maybe walk in a feel it out first) I'm trying to make an effort to find fun non-bar things to do and meet people. Last week was a failure, but hopefully things will improve. For the first time in two years I picked up the Village Voice last week. Now I know what you are thinking, why the hell did I avoid the Village Voice for two years? Well, I'll tell you. First I avoided it because reading Dan Savage's column Savage Love really depressed me. Here I was abandoned and missing the healthy sex life (the first time ever) I had come to love and I just couldn't read about all these OTHER people having sex, even if it was totally dysfunctional or completely fictional (like the guy who claimed he could have anal sex with himself). On top of that reading Voice had been an activity I had indulge in with Eric. He would check the paper for concerts and I would read the articles, often I read particularly amusing personals allowed ("Simply Vanilla-Woman is a Riddle whose Solution is Pregnancy"). But now I actually the Village Voice so that I can go to art openings and shows and even concerts (although I'm not really a concert person-being as tiny as I am there is a real fear of being crushed or stompled). Is this progress? Is this emergence at last? It seems like I go through stages where it seems like I am "getting better" or recovering, but I don't really believe it.

My therapist tells me that my fears of becoming totally poor and living out of a cardboard box are totally irrational, but I don't know if it is or not. It seems unlike, but it doesn't seem impossible especially considering that I make almost no money and live in a nice apartment. I don't buy anything but food anymore or alcohol. And I only go out one night a week, but still it costs a great deal. As Duff says once you live here, you can't live anywhere else. Where do you move to next? Maybe Scotland. I have decided to apply to graduate school there even though considering what I want to focus on the US is a much better choice (as I would invariably focus on American writers).
Although this has been prompted by my day, I would just like to reaffirm that I hate men, all of you. Your parents should have drowned you like kittens. Please resume your day.
Why do I have a cellphone? It just taunts me with its uselessness.
"Wherever we go, whatever we do, we have to...take this luggage." Joe versus the Volcano

A film I saw with my dad and we absolutely loved the last line (mentioned above here) It's on the family channel right now and I can't believe I forgot that line. We both thought it was great. ( That and he loved that Abe Vigoda was in the film as the Wapponi Woo's "witch doctor"/tribal elder.What can I say he was a big fan of Barney Miller. We used to watch on the couch together. It may explain why I'm sucha big fan of Law and Order. Of course, I also loved Hill Street Blues. Perhaps, unlike hospital dramas, I know little enough about the law to support my suspension of disbelief. That and Law and Order rarely has happy romance and dramas.)

I would type more but the waiter at dinner (I was out to dinner with mom) gave me two glasses of wine. He gave me two glasses without even asking for them. He kind of looked like a genii and then the way he acted. Well, he acted like a genii. I have that effect on waiters. Clearly he was enamored. Or more likely inflamed. So many worries, so many concerns. Time to go to sleep.
And now for a new stylistic impulse it's bunniblog stream of consciousness style

On the way out of the ballroom Edi (short for Eduard the Russian version of Edward) has the bluest eyes he is from Siberia not until I started dancing with the Russians did I ever want to see Russia or Siberia I find myself sometimes looking up pictures of Russia on the net looking for words like "teatr" so I can ask them if Iam saying it correctly Tony Riccio I believe the first person I knew from high school to die (class of '92) and I believe the first casualty of the class of '92 went to Russia many times when he was in high school my high school actually taught Russia Tony claimed that he survived on MacDonald's there that the food was terrible Tony would actually die in Russia although none of us knew it then he was murdered strangled and hung out his window although it was supposedly a robbery there were rumors that it was done by the government although I hadn't talked to Tony for years so why the government would want to kill him is beyond me we all felt the loss though I remember coming to visit Laurie my best friend during new year's eve (what year was that 96?) and Ziner, who always protected me from all of the drug abuse going on around me-Ziner who had wanted to go out with me, but for reasons he could never articulate never asked-although I suspect reason number one was fear of rejection and reason number two was to protect me from guys like himself-which considering what I later discovered about his drug use he was one of the only people I ever met who admit to shooting up horse tranquilizers he took me into the living room and told me that Tony was dead that he had been murdered I had found out that Lauren Klatzkin who had the same birthday as me lauren who had bright red hair and a voice like she had been gargling with hot asphalt had gone into the hospital for routine tests and then died suddenly that night in the hospital apparently she had cancer but what killed her was a blood clot just a random sudden death there were so many other things I was going to write about when I started this I was going to write about my walking home that I feel fat all the time lately last year at least I felt I was a sexy beast I barely eat at all but I'm not losing any wait I mean so far today I've had a croissant a bagel with cream cheese and a cup of soup ( two cups of tea and a lemonade to drink) you want to tell me that is even close to 2000 calories a day? I don't eat fast food or anything friend of any candy or chocolate ok so I eat carbs, but c'mon I should be losing weight of course part of it is my ass and thighs are actually all muscle from dancing but on top of everything else where I used to believe I was damn sexy now I simply believe that I'm ok and that it's mainly the way I dress I so want to smoke been wanting to smoke since monday but I have resisted the urge Fitzpatrick's is now an overwhelmingly popular place since it has decided to flout the smoking ban when I walked by at eight fifteen all the seat at the bar were full which on a tuesday at eight is like a miracle I've never seen it like this even mark has decided to come back and work at Fitzpatrick's I saw him on the street today he looks awful so pale its' hard to believe that last year at this time he and were hanging out like every week that we occassionally slept over at his place-even in the same bed-although in a perfectly platonic way platonic of course doesn't mean the same thing it initiately did but in this case there was nothing romantic or sexual or sensual at all going on but still its wierd to think that we were such close friends and he borrowed books and we used to have conversations about all kinds of things and now he won't hug me or even talk to me for that long to be sure he was interested in me but I wasn't going to get involved any way now Fitzpatrick's is the popular plce to be and I hate it I liked it being a neighbor hood place that I didn't have to worry about getting a seat or fending off the drunken hordes on a god damned tuesday I'm so exhausted time to go to sleep although perhaps I should go to the deli first and get a snack something light christ of all things on top of it all now I get to be fat
"Every once in a while, you have to look around and say, 'What the fuck?'"- Wall Street as quoted by my high school geometry teacher

Let me see if I can recount the horror and the pain and the utter dpression of these two days. Ok so I'm dealing with the whole Eric graduating thing. That's right I MENTIONED his name. Last week was his birthday (22), and then thursday to meet rich and company I had to walk through union square the place I've avoided since september 2001. It was the place where Eric and I first kissed, and he first told me he loved me (in front of the Barnes and Noble on 17th street). There was a statue there where was sat and kissed the first night we met each other. When Eric decided to leave the statue got torn up (some symbolic events in life are too perfect) the statue has been restored but not my relationship. He is graduating soon and I will lose the ability to know where he is. I can't help thinking "how can he do this?" How can he graduate with out a word to me? After all I did for him? After all we meant to each other? How can he just vanish? And not wonder what happened to the girl he thought he wanted to marry? On one level I want to send him some sort of letter (I've been thinking of posting it here instead of sending it and therefore getting some sort of satisfaction) and on the other I never want to see him again. I want to tell him to leave. I don't care where you go, just get out of my city. I was here first. You know how you were always afraid you were going to move back to Las Vegas? Have a nice trip. I'll be you the U-Haul truck. It's a big world-go live in it. Of course, that was the grand irony of what I had done, he was worried when I met him that he was going to move back to Las Vegas. And then I sold him New York. Like a total idiot. As Ashley Judd says in the film "Somebody Like You" (which I have indavertently watched 8 times thanks to HBO showing it night and day-and yes I find Hugh Jackman attractive, but they could alternate it with X-men.) "What is that they say about the love of a good woman? If given freely it's sure to turn around and bite her in the ass."

Then on top of that remember the prof. I mentioned all those weeks ago about having the serious relationship problem? Well, his beloved sent him the "i want to pick up my stuff" email. Did I see that coming? Did I call it? Now after all the advice that I gave, does he even take me out for coffee as a thank you? No he vanishes until he has relationship problems and then he's hanging out in my cubicle, he's calling me at home (I had to cut him off for Six Feet Under-a girl has limits). But its all about him. Yet again I play the psychotherapist. This guy is sitting in his office and I'm giving him advice which I preface with "Like all the best advice it's extremely simple and yet utterly impossible to do" and then I say "You have to move on and do other things." Now when I wa sin his position I was rolling around on the floor, totally incoherent with heartbreak. And he says to me "Do you know what you are asking me to do?" Do I know? Yes, absolutely. In fact, I know better than you do because I've been living here for two years. I couldn't read for three months, and unlike you, I didn't even have people who were willing to listen to my nonsensical ranting. Well, initially I did, but then after a while people got bored, people wanted me to be better, and clearly I am not, but I can pretend to BE better. My favorite is when people say "Oh I didn't know." I'm like "Listen I was drag assin' around the office for five months hiding in my cubicle crying, clearly not sleeping or eating at all and you didn't notice? People what was ai supposed to do? Advertise in the Sunday New York Times?"

Lord I have to go to therapy, but I'm having a lot of issues. But then we already know that.

Very depressed. Very depressed.

It's snowing in april. APRIL. My only consolation is that the end of the world is nigh.

"It's frickin' freezing in here, Mr. Bigglesworth"-Dr. Evil in Austin Powers
Almost forgot the most important part of tonight blog. So I had a whole crisis about should I call the Beast back. Obviously I know I shouldn't. I should tell him to go fuck himself. Unfortuantely I am sure there is a whole pack of women who would be so willing to do it for him. But I didn't call. I have a new plan. I'm going to wait until mid June and then call him at one in the morning and say "Remember when you called me at like one in the morning two months ago? What was that about?" On the other hand, I shouldn't even bother that much with him.

And now for a complete non sequitor. I think TNT should start calling themselves the all clint eastwood all the time network. I mean, from thursday night to monday morning that's all they show: the Gauntlet, Tightrope, In the Line of Fire, Absolute Power, Heatrbreak Ridge. Now, don't get me wrong, I like Eastwood. There are certain days where a good Dirty Harry movie is exactly what I need. (There are definately days when I rehearse that whole "It can blow a man's head clean off. What you've got to ask yourself is do you feel lucky? Well do you punk?" My friend patrick prefers the line from Unforgiven "I've always been lucky in killin' people.") But I do not need all Clint Eastwood every weekend. It almost makes me long for them to show Gone in Sixty Seconds.

Almost.

"There he goes, one of G-d's own prototypes...Too wierd to live, too rare to die." Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas-the film not the book

"My hair ain't afraid of no dead people. My hair was raised around dead people." Tonight's episode of Six Feet Under

So I'm really depressed. I don;t really have the energy to go into everything that has happened this last week, but let's just say, oh my god it was wierd. And the wierdest thing was NOT ending up at a red neck bar on the upper west side at 4 o'clock in the morning on a tuesday, or going out with a pack of eight former students and playing a drinking game. Nope, the wierdest was reserved for this weekend. Friday night I went to bed at eleven oc'lock I was so exhausted friday didn't seem like a day, but a dream. So I went to bed early, and at one am my phone rings and it is (maestro-drum roll please) THE BEAST. Yep, the last time he called was the first week in january and the last time I actually spoke to him in person was the last week in january and now he finally calls. Amazing. So I hear the phone ring. I look at the caller ID and I'm only half awake. So I know that I recognize the number, but I can't place it. So I answer the phone. And I hear "Hi Karie, it's justin." And my response is "Christ of course he would call when my apartment looks like a hurricane hit it. Of course he would call when I get all depressed that the only thing men want me for is sex." For Justin, to be fair, had his moments of making me feel better. (Unfortunately he then went and made me feel a hall of a lot worse. He encountered the same problem Chris D had with me. Basically, Chris figured out that the only way to win with me is simply not to play. I'll make you feel guilty no matter what the hell your do-it's a gift, what the hell can I say?) So half awake as I was, I recognized that the best thing for me to do was pretend to be more asleep than I really was (otherwise he would want to come over and sleep with me and I was not in the mood to break up with him while he was at a bar on his cell phone. Of course, I don't know if I can technically break up with him, since I don't think I'm his girlfriend. I mean, would you wait two months before you called your girlfriend?) So he is like "Are you asleep?" (I told you the boy was bright.) So I'm all mumbly, "yes." So then Uber-mensch says, "Do you want me to call you tomorrow?" (The brains on this kid are stupifying-and the sad part is I'm only being partially sarcastic.) So I say "Yes." So does he actually call the next day when I'm conscious (and now fully curious about what the fuck he has been doing for the past two months and why the hell he would call me out of the blue like that. Being me I can't allow myself to believe it was just a booty call. Which is probably exactly what it was...fucker) So he says "Ok, sweet dreams." So now I'm going to be filled with hostility and curiousity and let's face it desire. Because he was a great lover. And because he was fucking brilliant. And because he is everything I want and can't have. (Although recently I began to ponder the question of what my father would be more offended by me being involved with a black guy or me being involved with a prototype of the master race. It is an interesting conundrum.-I think I watched The Ring too many times.) But I'm in a really depressed and hostile mood tonight. And part of it has to do with what happened on thursday night. I mean, what is with these involved men wanting me for just sex? I don't know if I can actually articulate what about it enrages me so much. But part of it was Damien at one point said to me "Well, you know I could lie to you and say I would call." And I responded, "no you can't." But the truth is you can, and many men do. Because I work with the lie. I open to it. I so want to believe it. But what exactly is about me that's seems to broadcast "moral flexibility" and pure sex appeal. Why don't men see me as having girlfriend potential. I mean, this is why I end up just sleeping with guys because it breaks down like this. If I resist, then I never hear from them again and I don't get ANY pleasure out of it. If I give in, I never hear from them again, but at least I get some pleasure however temporary out of it. I mean, did I feel good about resisting Damien, sure. Was it the right thing to do? No problem. But the next day i started feeling those regrets crawling all over me. On the other hand, he wasn't really worth all that. Still, I go out and men hit on me just for sex, I don't go out and I still don't find a boyfriend. And this is why I'm depressed. It seems that it doesn't matter what I do. Modify my behavior. Stick me in different clothes. The same thing happens. If only I could become a Jewish nun.