09/15/99
Mope

I had an excellent run tonight. If I had such a thing as a stopwatch it probably would have been my best time ever. Which is interesting, considering I had such a good run Saturday with Donna and then a shitty one by myself Monday evening. Coming up Friday: the Cooper-Young 4-miler. A nice, flat, shady neighborhood on a cool fall evening - with gallons and gallons of beer afterwards. It was extremely hot and humid last year, so this will be nice.

When did I update last? Sunday? Oh yeah...in that entry I mentioned Sonya stayed in her pajamas all day long Saturday. In all fairness I should mention that I've done this on more than one occasion and I find it admirable.

Really, though, not much has happened since Sunday. I've been in a horrid funk since Monday morning. I certainly don't think I'm the kind of person who is subject to depression, but I've been circling dangerously close to it over the last few days. I think it's primarily work-related, but I don't know. I'm no psychologist. Anyway, I've been much happier today, so I'm going to choose to ignore these ever-more-frequent low spots and go about my business.

I've no business being depressed, you know? I've got the good wife, the faithful dog, friends, family, good job, fine apartment, blue truck...I don't know. I think I want to be a DJ. Not a on-the-radio DJ, or a weddings-and-bar-mitzvahs DJ, but a club DJ. I think I'm qualified to do this because

A) I like going to clubs, and

2) I enjoy music.

Also, there's that whole greatest-genius-to-walk-the-earth thing I've got going on. I say that with a smile, but trust me: I truly believe it. It baffles me why more people don't recognize it.




Sonya got paid yesterday. I needed an oil change. I picked her up after work and we both went to Midtown, where she proceeded to try to get me out of my funk by buying me lots of shit. I got some books (including a nice Barnes and Noble hardback copy of Dracula) and some magazines and a copy of Nine Inch Nail's Pretty Hate Machine - I've had tapes of it over the years, but I've never actually given Trent Reznor any money until yesterday. Poor guy, he's so sad all the time; he deserves the cash.




Ah, Jesus...some bastard's just walked into a Baptist church in Fort Worth and killed some people, including himself. These are dangerous times in which we live. Once upon a time you could at least assume safety at work, or at school, or at church. Now? Any place you go can become a live-fire zone. And while there's always been a supply of loonies ready to take out a crowd the number of incidents really seem to have shot up in the last, say, ten years or so. I think it's premillenial insanity more than anything. I'd place a reasonable amount of money on a bet that all these shootings come to a near-complete halt next year. Any takers?

And while I'm on the subject: the NRA thinks that an armed society is a polite society, right? So how come when all these shootings go down the only person with a gun is a bad guy doing all the killing? Unless the NRA is willing to give every single citizen in the United States a gun...well, then.

"Guns don't kill people, people kill people."

As Eddie Izzard says, though, "the gun helps."




Memphis readers: if you like mopey music as much as I do the Castle over on Central is having a gothic night this Sunday. I called the place to get some more details and talked to Ringo, who seemed to be both the manager and completely insane. Still, he was very friendly. I'll probably go - what else do I have to do Sunday night?

Speaking of depressing tunes, I showed my listening selections to a coworker today. It included my new NIN CD, the Blair Witch soundtrack, some Switchblade Symphone, Siouxsie, the Cure, happy things like that.

"Do you see where my state of mind has been lately?" I asked him.

He hung his head despairingly. I laughed, both because this coworker is a gifted physical comedian and he precisely depicted my state of my mind.

But I'm much better now.





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