this is the longest goodbye...
The other ring I operate is called "powdered creamer" because nothing stays fresh in my fridge. This is mainly becuase I live solitary and am the only one who uses my vittals and I don't use much.
The latter ring has had only one taker - fulograc - because she idolizes me, but the former has been completely barraged by teenagers, Asians, goths, and queers.
In no particular order.
The most recent member to my diary ring has a unimpressive profile involving old standby's like Nirvana and The Matrix and a statement like, "people think I don't understand pain because my life seems so perfect..."
But this isn't what got me.
This diarist's current entry was about the demonic travails of purchasing college text books at exorbitant prices, and though I understand the frustration, the pettiness thereof also was not what prompted me to write about it.
It was her list of favorite authors.
She listed one.
Tim LaHaye.
The author of the rapture-series Left Behind.
(for those of you not from a Judeo-Christian background, "rapture" does not hereby imply "extasy" but rather the Second Coming of Christ; obviously, since Christ has not returned then anything involving the event is pure speculation because even the "prophesy" in the Bible's book of Revelation is vague, so I tend to regard these books as science fiction at best).
Her comment on this book was something along the lines of, "I love this series, except I don't like how the last one, Armagedon, ends."
It's Armagedon!
It is the end.
I know I'm being unfair, but it just seems funny. There are plenty of things she could have meant by that, but a man like LaHaye preaches "end times" in a horrific, frightening, fire-and-brimstone sort of way, and I don't imagine anyone would like how it ends (except for the righteous who aren't "left behind").
I considered ending the ring, but I sort of enjoy seeing the peoplel that it collects.
Anyway, Tuesday night it is, and I've got a bank account now.
I cooked a huge meal tonight, for only myself. One chicken, whole. Pinto beans. Rice. Green beans. And a lot of them, too.
Day 2: chicken burritos with rice and re-fried beans.
Day 3: chicken zitti.
Day 4: pinto beans and cornbread.
Day 5: re-run of tonight.
All my cd's are organized, but I still haven't hung my pictures yet, or put away my insane amount of clothing.
I think I left my Harry Potter books and kitchen knives with Lindsay... not good.
Tylere talked to me tonight. I've really got a lot invested in him. He's still the brightest star in my sky. I hope we aren't crippling each other by being so close and whatnot, so "best friend" but either one or the other having intentions for more.
I hope instead that we are actually supporting each other. Perhaps the scheme of things will work out the kinks and we can live happily ever after being hott nerds with MLB season tickets.
But my fear at the beginning of the summer which eventually eased me out of my painful longings for him was that in five years I will be a doctor - a scientist - and will be such by my own motivation (and God's help), and that he will still be unsure about where his passion lies.
And that fear is sustained by his own admission of not knowing what to do after graduation in December.
But I am being unfair.
and no, this isn't the first time; in fact it is twice in a row
I graduated three years ago.
These decisions can take time, I understand.
He could graduate in December and never do a damn thing in his life and still be a valuable person to me.
