measi's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I want to get off the rollercoaster for a while Despite doing really nothing this weekend that would prevent me from being online, I just didn't feel like journal writing this past weekend. Actually, I was online quite a bit-- trying to dig through all of my mail since early May. I'm not making a lot of headway on it. Hoping to get that done this weekend, since we don't have a movie to go see or his game, or LGM around for that matter so we blow hours upon hours playing Warcraft over the wireless LAN. I've just been in a funk lately. The weather has had a good deal to do with it-- the entire weekend was a washout. It POURED on Monday, and the days preceeding it weren't much better. And it's supposed to rain for most of the week. Ugh... I thought this gloom was supposed to happen in Massachusetts during the winter. The good thing that the rain forced upon us was a day of getting the apartment put together. Between all of our weekend travels lately, having a houseguest, and having such a crappy winter that the "to go to storage" pile has been sitting unceremoniously in our living room since... oh, December or so... the place was a wreck. So on Sunday, we took care of that. Erich and LGM took over anything that needed to go back to storage. I cleaned out the hole that was my section of the computer room. On Monday, I went through every piece of clothing I own. I kid you not-- I pulled EVERYTHING off the hangers, shelves, and out of drawers, and sorted through it... Goodwill piles, storage piles, garbage, and back into the closet. Two trashbags full of clothes are on their way to Goodwill. And my closet, while still full, is now much more manageable. So this weekend was one of getting crap done. But I still feel moody and gloomy. I'm tired. And I know why. A major part of it, as Minarae knows from talking to me the other night, is my ongoing frustration with my dad. It's now been five months since I physically talked to him. It's been two and a half since I sent that letter to him. Not a single word has been exchanged. Zippo. Needless to say, I am quite hurt. I'm pissed. And I really feel like every one of my worst fears with my dad have been realized. I know I did what I both needed and desperately wanted to do-- to tell my dad exactly how I feel, and how his actions over the years have made me feel. Well great. That's done. Now what? Because this result so justifies the means, doesn't it? I hang myself out on a limb to be honest and communicate with my dad. In return, I feel like he's sitting with a hacksaw, cutting off said limb. So now Father's Day is coming up quickly. And that whole question of cards and such comes up. I know that I need to get a card, because he is still my father, regardless of what's going on. But a part of me wants to be a bitch and make a snide "sorry that you don't feel I'm worth talking to" type comment in it. Which I know would get me nowhere near resolving the problem. I think when it comes down to it, I'll just send a very generic, dull card-- to note that I remembered, but not really put much effort into it as I have in past years. *sigh* And Min, I do appreciate you talking to me about this the other night. I really do. Sometimes I'm just not quite sure what to say about it, since I'm just completely lost for coherant thought on the subject a lot of the time. Erich's joking "buttfudder" comment has become a bit more malicious in my mind when referring to my father these days. I do hope for a resolution on this soon. I really do. I'd like to have my dad in my life in some capacity. But I'm starting to realize that there's a very good chance it's not going to happen. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ In any case, despite that gloom that's been hanging over me a bit the last few days, I am doing okay. Erich and I celebrate our 2nd anniversary this weekend (scary, eh?). Our trip to P-town was our "official" romantic getaway weekend. Tonight we're going to see Fleetwood Mac in concert in Worcester, which I'm psyched about... I've loved their music since I was a kid. It's probably why dad is pressing so much on my mind today... a lot of Fleetwood Mac music reminds me of him. He used to play it on the radio in his woodshop on the weekends as he worked. Hopefully some of those memories can be repressed... I'd rather just enjoy the concert without thinking about him for a while. ~ Mel. 10:26 a.m. - 28 May 2003 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||