Today I am wishing that I still had that playlist “songs to be happy to” on my iPod.

Have you ever woken up sad?  And I don’t mean inexplicably, or based on a sad dream you just had, but the kind of sad that’s based on something big and real in your life.  The kind of something that normally doesn’t get to you, but every once in a while sneaks up on you, and one unsuspecting day BAM! there it is again, a wound you thought had scabbed over at least a little open and festering.

I’m not sure what it is that causes me to be so disappointed in people, but that’s usually the cause of my feelings.  Or maybe it’s not so much disappointment in people, but regret at how much things can change, how people can be your lifeline one day, and then suddenly you’re no longer important to them, barely registering on their radar.

Life marches on, as always, and I’ve always really sucked at accepting that.  I like people to remain who they were; who they were to me, and who I was to them to never change.  That never happens of course.

As I’ve gotten older I’ve learned not so much to deal with it, as to push it down, ignore it.  To retaliate by distancing myself as well, building a world where only the privileged few get access.  There are consequences to walking away from me.  You may only walk a few feet, but I will turn and sprint in the other direction.  Because what you’ve said to me is that I no longer count, am no longer important.

Not likely a healthy response, but generally speaking, once someone turns away from you they rarely notice if you’ve zipped off even further away from them.  It rarely impacts them; it’s the ultimate in “you’re only hurting yourself”, if you think about it.  But it’s also quite the automatic defense system.

Not to get all maudlin, movie-of-the-week, etc., but I’ve had a lot of people let me down in my life, only to be told time and time again that it’s “natural” for them to do so, or that I need to forgive them, or I need to let it go.  Ultimately that no matter what, my disappointment is my own, and generally unfair and wrong.  And sometimes I even put myself out on the line and tell how I feel, only to have it do nothing.

So be it, then.  It’s pretty tough to be told that the very core of your feelings are wrong.  I don’t believe that any feelings can be wrong.  But I’ve accepted that my expectations are different from everyone else’s, that maybe this is my problem.

And for the most part I’ve dealt with it in my own ways, for the most part, the seeping disappointment doesn’t hurt any longer.

Except for today, apparently.

In 1995 I think I was surfing the internet on a 14.4 baud connection on mostly a text-based browsing system (although it was really browsing at the time).

I made a very earnest, teenaged angsty comment on a (now) embarrassingly named webpage. Under my full, real name. (It was the early days of the net. I HAD NO IDEA WHAT I WAS DOING.)

This thing is still out there. LONG after badly designed well-intentioned webpages (and their caches) would have disappeared, this thing still exists 12 years later. I cannot believe I’ve been on the internet THAT long.

In my defense, it was barely even “The WEB” yet. I think I was surfing from a used 286 (and if you know what *that* means you’ve been around as long as I have).

Anyway, after many aborted attempts over the years I found a contact email for the PAGE THAT WOULD NOT DIE and sent this email:

I put up a quote on a website many years ago. Long before I knew the joys of Google Cache and not using your real name on the Internet.

It’s been 12 years, and my earnest yet embarrassing comment still comes up on a google search of my name.

My name is Axxxxxxx. I made that comment when I was 17. I am 29 now, and I’d prefer it not exist. PLEASE acknowledge this email, and please remove my comment from the web page.

Thank you.

I got a response back within half an hour. It stated this:

LOL….we’ll get it to our webmaster.

That’s good enough for me

But they should, because when I have a cold with a sore throat these are two staples of my diet. I don’t think it’s too much to ask to have an ice-cream flavoured cough syrup. I doubt anyone would want cough syrup flavoured ice cream, but then what do I know?

Clearly exciting things are going on in my life. This is what I post when I don’t want to do laundry.

After a gorgeous weekend, it seems like we’re headed for the first storm of the season.

Oh, and here’s a few good pics from my friends visit this weekend.

I know I am a faulty person. I do things that are wrong and and make me difficult to be around. And I don’t always recognise all my faults. But when I do, at least I am able (sometimes grudgingly) to say “Yes, I can be a schmuck.”. I have only ever heard three people say that re: our friendship, and one of them wasn’t even really my friend.

This sucks. I’m going through one of those times where all you want to do is go to sleep for months or years and wake up and have everything be okay.

Ugh.

She’s engaged. I don’t think it bothers me, but maybe I’m hysterical.