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well, my dad is in country once more. we had a pleasant enough conversation on the phone; he actually sounded normal for once. i think it's because i said i was fine for money (not that he offered, or anything) - and he actually changed his tune regarding The Laptop Issue. he said "yeah, i don't know why i told you what i told you before, probably because i was sick...but you can have the laptop i have...i just have pictures on it, but it's a $3000 laptop...i can get it to you by december..."

hm. hm, say i. this means:

he thought it over and went, "gee, i really DON'T want to spend $1,500, after all! i guess i don't *really* use the laptop. shit, i'd better get that porn off the hard drive. and hey, then i can blow the $1,500 on whatever i want! score!!"

pah. PAH I SAY! i wanted a brand new computer! i can't tell you how excited the thought of NEW TECHNOLOGY that was MINE, ALL MINE - out of a box from the store with horrible squeaky styrofoam and all - HOW GOOD that made me feel! being the third child and all, i rarely - NAY, NEVER - received something new and all mine and up-to-date. it was always some reject cast-off, at least 5 years old, from my brothers. oh wait, there was that one time i finally guilted my dad into buying me a cheap stereo (was probably about $200) when i cried that the boombox from 1984 just wasn't cutting it anymore - in 1994. i still have the bastard stereo, even though smoke came out of it and the tape decks don't work.

no tv, no vcr, no dvd, no cellphone, no palm pilot, no walkman, no mp3 player, no computer (i cashed a savings bond for my last one - 1998.) - aggggh. i want to BELONG. i need a status symbol, NOW!

but i'm still getting a laptop. eventually. dammit.

***

haven't heard from socks in a while...nearly a week now? i'm content to let her have space (as i like mine) but it makes me miss her and think about her even more often. the withdrawal does get to me, eventually.

as the d-date approaches for the apartment to become mine, all mine, i'm beginning to regret the space more and more. i guess it's mostly impatience. i moved into "my" room, and it's not bad. i've fared quite well working with the scraps of 'furniture' i have. it will be quite different with my stuff in it. i think i may cry a lot, too.

it's going to take a lot of work getting that place up to par. fucking no-good drop-ceilings. fucking cheapskate landlords ruining 100-year old apartments. fuck everything!

(i believe i am PMS-ing)