assholetown

now playing: marty higgins and blake allen, various songs rotating endlessly in winamp

i certainly can’t claim to have any proof of this, but i’d dare say that no one is as adept as emotional self-mutilation through music as yours truly. it’s one of my gifts.

this week has descended into a place i’m a little too familiar with for my own good…in fact, when i was searching the blog archives the other day, i couldn’t help but notice that i was dealing with some of this same stuff last year at around this time.

i know how cryptic all this must sound, but i’m just going to leave it at that for the time being. i don’t know that i really feel like getting too far into it here. there’s a dialogue involved already, and i’m not ready to recap a work in progress just yet.

she was right, though, when she said this…

…closure doesn’t really erase pain. We sort of store it in our bodies. It is the space in between us and other people.

and not just the distance between you and the person who hurt you….but the distance between you and anyone else who dares to venture into that space once inhabited…

wendy called, distraught, from the library last night. she was promoted to library director less than a month ago, upon the board having fired her predecessor – so no real transition period at all, unfortunately.

now wendy is more than capable of picking up the torch and running with it, but she’s working two jobs at the moment doesn’t seem to be ready to do things any differently at the moment…at any rate, she was feeling overwhelmed as a result of everything she’d had to take on in such a short time, and all she really wanted from me was for me to listen, i think.

i don’t think i did a very good job, in retrospect.

i think i interjected a little too much of what i’d do into the situation, might’ve been a little more judgemental-sounding than i’d have preferred to have been…i just don’t think i was much of a shoulder at that point in time.

i’d been sitting here at work, stewing in my own juice…and the phone rang. and i just wasn’t where i should’ve been to be the person she needed me to be at that point.

she and i had a conversation some time back in which i insisted to her that i wasn’t a very nice guy, and she tried to defend me to myself…i’m still convinced that i was right. i’m really not a very nice guy. i don’t know when this transition took place specifically, but the kind, generous, sympathetic person that i was once upon a time seems to have vanished and has been replaced by the guy who can’t even just listen quietly to someone who needs an ear.

(i know i’m gonna get some dissention from some of my friends on this point, but i’ll continue to beg to differ. in fact, i’d go so far as to say that during the course of that phone call, i might’ve gone from simply a former nice guy over the edge of the fence to assholetown…and frankly, if my disposition doesn’t improve soon, i may as well start looking for an apartment there…)

the one moment of levity last night was provided by jayda, whos’ taken on impersonating rachel dratsch’s “stepdaughter” character from saturday night live and was following dylan around last night, chanting, “rick, rick, rick, rick, RICK! can i get my ears pierced, rick? can i, rick? rick, rick, rick, RICK!” she was standing behind the sofa doing this and leaned over the back of it and flipped herself over the back of the sofa and onto the floor…at which point they both broke up laughing.

i almost pissed myself. it was the funniest thing i’d seen in a pretty dismal week, thus far.

there’s obviously a lot more on my mind of late…but i really need to do what i need to do to get the hell out of here for the weekend.

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