Back to Bowling Green
2002-08-26 - 9:50 a.m.
Yesterday, we moved Vomit back into BGSU. It was good. His roommate seems nice. Their beds were already lofted and he's got air-conditioning. Hopefully, this year will be better than last for him. It depresses me though. I so wish I was back in college. But, I certainly couldn't wear the short shorts with the name of whatever college I was going to on my butt, with a teeny, tiny, short, tight tank top thing and thongy flipflops. Wouldn't work with me. Nope. So, I can't go back to college until they change the "dress code" of all of those 18-22 year olds.
In other news, my mother didn't speak to me the whole day! How fucking psycho/fucked up is that? Yay! I must be looked upon as the demon child what with dating Booie and having the alleged "panic attack" and still not having enough money to pay them back what I borrowed from them last August. Vomit is the perfect one obviously. My dad still likes me though. We talked a lot. Quite a switch from when I was a child and could hardly mutter a sound to my father without thinking he'd yell at me. I get the feeling my mom hates him too. He's not allowed to have or do things he likes. Example: My dad was doing his crossword puzzle (in the Lifestyle section) on the way up to BG. My mom was reading the rest of the paper in the backseat. My mom asked my dad if he had the Lifestyle section. He immediately gave it to her and said, "Yes, maam. There you go." and then, he sat there like a little puppy waiting for his crossword puzzle back. Too afraid to say anything to her because he knew and I knew that she would raise a big stink about it. "Tim, I'm reading the paper right now. You can do your crossword later." Booie does crosswords. I just don't think I could ever do that to Booie. If Booie was still doing the crossword I would not ask for or expect Booie to give me that part of the newspaper. It is sad/scary.
In even more other news, my grandma is now not allowed to drive anymore. It is all downhill from here, huh? Especially since she usually went out around 1 or 2 to pick up some food. She doesn't like to cook and honestly, I don't want her cooking because she may not remember what to do should there be a fire or she might simply leave the stove on and start a fire. I just feel sad for her. She just completely lost her independence. What is she going to do now? She is so stuck it is not even funny.
On my drive back from BG, I listened to sad music, thought about my grandma and my screwed up mom and then, as I passed UD Arena, I realized I truly have not been good at anything since April of 93 at WGI. That was the last time I performed (save for those mamby-pamby performances we did at Miami) and did something right. I don't feel like I did well at KEF, XIX and certainly not CET even though I worked my ass off the most there and totally believed in everything that station was about. And, I haven't really believed in anything since I've been there. Especially me. I am so not liking myself right now.
I drove by that spot where that guy drove into the overpass support pole under the Franklin overpass on 75 (I *think* that's where it is). The chunk is still there. I remember that photog coming back and talking about how he saw it all happen. The guy drove straight into it, the car caught fire and the guy burned to death. The photog was so happy he caught that guy burning to death on tape. John Currier that was his name. Anyway, sometimes I feel like driving into an overpass support beam and burning to death. I know I'll never do it though.
I just wish things would get better. I'm tired. Of struggling.
On a happier note, Keera is not dead.
