Precious has returned home to me, amazingly enough, with no huge hiccups to bitch about. Sure, I needed to finish securing the trim on the inside of the rear hatch and the plastic wire that used to secure the gas cap to the little gas cap door no longer does; however this is miles ahead of what I went through a bit under a year ago when I last got her back from Paradise. Yesterday I even installed my replacement CD changer that I was finally able to find online for a mere $615 – keeping nothing but original parts on Precious can be expensive at times... Now that I’m able to once again eject my disc cartridges, I spent last evening creating another 12 discs of random music from my rather extensive collection of what I guess one would refer to as oldies – you know … your late 70’s thru early 90’s rock that, not too long ago, was considered “garbage” by our parents. You know you’re getting old when you hear a song from some group on the radio and complain about their “new stuff” not being as good as their older, far superior tunes then take notice that the station you’re listening to is billed as “the best classic rock in the greater L.A. area!” and the new tune you just berated is over 20 years old! What can I say? I knows what I likes and I ain’t about to buy that this modern, cookie cutter, electronically pitch-enhanced, American Idol inspired bullshit that the music industry is trying to justify as actual music is anything but the crap that it is. Hmm … perhaps I am getting a bit crotchety in my mid age…But that’s neither here nor there … I got my car back. I’m tempted to start an office pool on how much time will pass before I am once again forced to rely on rentals (with the way my luck goes, I’d be tempted to bet large on “not very long”…) however for now, at least, I am able to drive the car that I purchased so many years ago. I’m living the dream…
Unfortunately, apart from the return of Precious, this dream I’m living as of late is a pure nightmare. I’m constantly pissed off at everything (and I do mean “everything” … I’ve begun flipping off my television set … this makes no sense – it’s not like the “people in the box” can even see me or anything – however there I am, time and time again, flipping the bird to my Sony Bravia often accompanied by some choice words at the moronic drivel that seems to constantly ooze forth from it…), I’m in what could best be described as a perpetual bad mood and the worst part about all this is that I see no end for this anywhere on the horizon. I do have a trip back home for Christmas and New Year’s coming in a bit over a week; but apart from that, nothing. I own a house (well, I “own” a mortgage) in Colorado that is currently being enjoyed by someone else’s family. I’m living in (and paying rent for) a room here in California which seriously limits any possibilities I might have at wooing any women – “Shall we take this back to my place … oh wait, strike that. Could I interest you in perhaps getting a hotel room tonight?” – although I suppose bitching about this is moot … let’s face it, I’m much more likely to find the Holy fucking Grail than I am to find a woman that would consider me sponge-worthy. This fact has been rather forcefully made clear to me in the past couple of months. I seem to have lost my will to live. I mean, what’s the point?
I suppose this is just life though. You do your best to get through these ebbs in an attempt to ride the next wave as far as you can before inevitably crashing down again, a bit more beaten, a bit less youthful and, if you’re not careful, a bit less human. The wise rely on support from their friends whereas the friendless slowly fade away and become nothing more than vague memories. My list of friends here in Cali has always been short. It currently contains nobody…
Oh well, what’s one to do about it? (Or, more to the point, what am I to do about it???) I wish I had an answer to that question – really I do – but unfortunately I don’t know. All I know is that I can’t continue to do nothing for much longer. I’m afraid I’m going to end up becoming one of those screwy head cases that you sometimes run into mumbling some sort of anamnesis to himself in words completely disconnected from all relevance however important enough for him to be repeated ad nauseum with complete disregard to even the existence of others. Holy shit! That’s what this blog is … the ramblings of a madman. Please don’t tell me my life’s dwindled to nothing more than occasionally posting my completely useless thoughts to a blog with no readers … I don’t think I could sufficiently deal with that reality…
bis spatter,
Coriolis
