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Nearing 2002

There's a craze sweeping the Livejournal set, everyone is making a list of 5 good things that happened to them in 2001.

I have to say that, in a great many ways, 2001 was a terrible horrible year; I got laid off, my mother died, I'm deeply depressed and can barely find the will to get up in the morning anymore - but there were some high points thrown in with all the crap, so I'll give it a whirl.

1. I met Joel through very unlikely, random methods. We fell in love and are still in it.
2. I didn't contract any diseases.
3. My house didn't burn down.
4. I became a homeowner, kind of, and that house didn't burn down either.
5. I became aware of the importance of friends, and can happily report that most of my friends are well and loved by me.

There are some small, personal victories as well, a new sense of courage and strength, a love for San Francisco, vague plans for my near future but those don't really fit in to the list.

Tomorrow i'm going to drop in at the drop in crisis clinic. I'm at a very low, very awful point. Joel has been here with me, and he's worried, and i'm worried. I've got no energy, no hope, no will. Yesterday I slept for 19 hours or so. Today it took a major gigantic effort to get my shit together enough to get dressed and take a bus downtown to run some errands - of course it was raining sideways and miserable, so it didn't really do me much good. Caitlyn's husband gave me half of a Sertraline, some kind of SSRI as a gift, which was weird, but what the hell, he claimed he could feel the effects within about an hour, and even went so far as to compare it to ecstasy. He's kind of a nutter when it comes to pills, though, so who knows. I didn't really notice any effect whatsoever aside from feeling a little sleepy while I watched weird/bad movies with Archie.

It was the perfect night for movies. We watched The Center of the World, which was better than i'd feared, and the beginning of Moulin Rouge which was far far worse than i'd ever imagined. Good lord what a piece of shit that film is. I hope everyone even remotely involved with that film is doing pennance right now, being poked with hot irons, or something. After a little bit of that awfulness, we watched Behind the Green Door, which is a really pretty great film, and makes me want to seek out more Mitchell Brothers porn. Archie is a dear little pervert and i'm very glad to call him a friend.

Everyone is going somewhere, doing something enormous with their lives right now. I feel kind of left out. I want to do huge things. Taking some night classes at city college and going through Probate on my mother's estate just doesn't seem all that big and interesting.


( 5 uh-ohs — Make a mess )
Dec. 21st, 2001 06:22 am (UTC)
*hug* I love you, Kamio. I wish I could be *there* for you. But I'm *here* for you too.

Would it make you feel any better if I too moved out there? Should only be a few months. I would wait tables for you, to help you through things.
Jul. 7th, 2006 11:43 pm (UTC)
Moulin Rouge which was far far worse than i'd ever imagined. Good lord what a piece of shit that film is.

That's what *I* thought of it. Then again, the people I watched it with defended it fiercely, mainly on the basis of the costumes.

Whereas, I tend to believe that if a movie must be defended by saying "the costumes were good" then it should be a picture book, not a movie.

But I'm kind of a movie curmudgeon.
Jul. 8th, 2006 12:36 am (UTC)
I was pissed off mainly by two things: historical inaccuracy (creates idiocy) - and I had to turn it off when they started in on Smells Like Teen Spirit.
Jul. 8th, 2006 12:49 am (UTC)
Whereas, I found their basic premise ("if music just keeps getting better, then people hundreds of years ago would think music from 1983 is fucking *awesome*!") so awful that nothing further could redeem it.

Not that anybody in the movie seemed to try. I hated pretty much all the characters, which didn't help.
Jul. 11th, 2006 05:24 pm (UTC)
I'm mostly pretty hypersensitive to anything dissing on Toulouse Lautrec. I really feel that John Leguizamo's portrayal of Toulouse did the entire Post-Impressionist movement a great disservice.
( 5 uh-ohs — Make a mess )