What a Girl Wants

It's around The First of August (not to be confused with August 1st), and I was looking at my movie list. I have 107 movies on it. Last year at this time I had 155. Something tells me I won't be surpassing my 2003 movie total.

There was a time when this would have bothered me. Nay, I say unto you, it would have depressed me. Because I passed my last year's goal of 200 movies watched, and now I don't have much hope at all of even meeting 200 movies, much less the 209 I ended up with at the end of 2003.

When I look at this year's movie list, though it's shorter, I notice a lot less 1- and 2-star movies on there. And that's why I have less than last year. See, last year, I watched every movie coming and going, whether I really wanted to or not. I watched a lot of cable movies (and as I think I've intimated before, my only "movie channels" are pretty damn sucky). I watched stuff that halfway through I was thinking, "Man, this movie reeks. But I can't let it go, it'll be a count on my movie list." None of that tat this year.

In short, I'm watching what I want.

I had my three-month (although as of today I'm 4-months post-op) checkup with my surgeon Tuesday. It went well. There was a four pound discrepancy in what they had me losing and in what I had me losing, but we figured two pounds of that out, and the other two, well, difference in scales, I guess. But Dr Davies was pleased - he even smiled - and yes, for any of those of you who actually care, I did ask him about my massive throwing up spells, and got an answer and suggestion. After saying goodbye to him, and I mean really goodbye, as he's retiring in October and I'm done with surgeons' appointments until February, I grabbed my mother (who normally tags along on these trips with me) and walked back out into the hot summer day. And decided to do a little shopping.

I'm kinda broke at the moment, I think I may have mentioned that once or twice or a hundred times. Medical bills + unexpected podmobile bills + Clarinetfest 2004 = A Broke Bet. But I felt good that I got the Davies Seal of Approval, and I wanted to celebrate. Yep, it's what I wanted to do.

First of all, in a stunning twist of fate, I bought some bass clarinet reeds (I'm doing some experimental honking). Then I found a nice sale rack and bought some summer clothes. (Not at the bass clarinet reed store, at a clothing store.) For these I paid cash, out of my "walking around money" I keep out of my paycheck. This means I can only do $26 worth of walking around in the next couple of weeks.

Then I decided to treat myself to something I've been wanting a long time. The DVD edition of "Freaks and Geeks," all episodes, commentary, added scenes. No, it's not the fancy special one, the one that looks like a yearbook, but it's still got all the episodes, and, unlike my video collection of the series, isn't snowy and old-looking and full of commercials. It was 70 bucks. I wrote a check. And was happy.

Until Tuesday night. When I was lectured - once again - about my horribly massive and terminal negativity. And my feelings got hurt.

And yesterday I went into work - I'm temporary boss this week because Real Boss is on vacation - and inexplicably (and even now I still don't know the reason) was given both the fisheye and the icy shoulder from both the other girls in the office. Not a word did they speak to me, except for one of them taking a piece of paper with some directions to a property out in the country, about 15 miles out, shoving it in my face and saying, "This needs to be looked at right now. It can't wait."

OK, I thought, that's fine. I took my lunch at 12:30, went home, from 1:00 to 2:00 watched "Law & Order," and at 2:00 walked out to my car to head to the boonies. I took my time. I drove the country roads, back and forth, I took the long way. I sauntered back into the office about 3:15. And you know what? The best part of that is that they hadn't put the disk into the digital camera, so I couldn't even take pictures - I get to do it all over again today! And I won't be taking the time-saving route, either.

I have to do enough in a day's time that I don't want to do. I have to take medicine and worry if every morsel I eat's going to make me sick, and force protein drinks into my body, and drink up until this time and wait an hour and eat and wait an hour and then start drinking again. I have to exercise - even though I like to swim, I have to force myself to do it on days when the water's too cold, the air's too cold, or I'm just too tired to do it. I have to endure criticism I don't feel like I deserve and work in a job where I'm nothing more than the dogsbody people shove pieces of paper at.

I like doing Picture Sunday. It makes me happy right now. It might not in the future, but I like doing it right now a lot. No one seems to get that excited about it, and that's fine. I'm going to keep doing it, because I enjoy it. I want to.

I'm not liking Acro so much anymore. Hardly anyone wants to judge, hardly anyone wants to play. The set-up is tiring to write, the topics are tiring to come up with. Sometimes I feel like it's the only reason people even visit Betland anymore, and sometimes I feel it's the big attraction people used to flock here to ride, but now its time has passed. Will I get rid of it? I don't know. But I might; if I want to.

And I'm sorry about that. I am. But goddammit, there are certain things I wanna do. Or don't wanna do. And if they make me happy, I'm going to do them, or not, as the case may be. And if it pisses you off, you can just get in the long line of people who don't think I'm doing things to suit them. If you stand there long enough, you just may be able tell me off, too.

That is, if you want to, of course.