It's all Uncle Bob's fault. I'm not sure what "It" is, but whatever it is, it's his fault. So there.

I'm much better tonight. Obviously. I'm thinking about writing something that might be considered humorous, but I'm concerned that some of you out there might think I were trying to cover up feelings of insecurity or suicidal tendancies.

*shakes her head* Not me. I'm wonderful, perfect and all that jazz.

I got to talk with Charles today. That ALWAYS cheers me up. Besides that, I got to talk with Russell a lot too... and I got to go to dinner with my Mom.

I also watched Whose Line Is It Anyway. Love that show. Damn, it just rocks. It's all off-the-cuff, spur-of-the-moment improvisation. It's a riot. But a funny riot. *grins*

Anyway... I wanted to clear up any misconceptions that might have been made during this weekend....

I am not depressed all the time. In fact, in the past two years, I've been really depressed maybe three weeks out of that entire time. Okay... perhaps six weeks. But that's it.

For the 8 years previous, I was depressed about 9 months out of every year. So, six weeks in two years is good in my opinion.

I guarantee you this, tho... I'm never going to quit smoking, forget to read Uncle Bob, dwell on the fact that my life has been in a stall for the past month and a half, listen to depressing songs on continuous play/repeat and stop eating.... at the same time... ever, ever, ever again. *chuckles*

Okay, so a little poor judgement... it's good to remind you what GOOD judgement is all about. I read Uncle Bob first thing this morning.

I know that I go on and on and on about him as if I were obsessed or something... Hell, perhaps I am. Perhaps I would be one of those tranquilizer-gun toting stalkers if I lived close enough to Uncle Bob to stalk him... and if I had the permits and finances to own a tranquilizer gun... and if I ...... awe, nevermind... I"d never be a stalker.

Suffice it to say, Uncle Bob really does cheer my day. I get to rise every morning to read his words. They may be "just a diary" or "just a column" to most folks, but to me it's an encouragement.

Awe hell, I'm doing absolutely shitty with serious crap tonight. So... screw it.

I got to talk with Charles today. *grins* There's just something so wonderful about talking with a man who does not sugar coat anything. He doesn't tell me what he thinks I want to hear. He doesn't force his opinions down my throat. I really like that.

But hell... I wrote all about him previously... Here in my Tribute to Charles. So, I'm not gonna rehash the whole entry....

there's only one drawback... *pouts* There's a two-thousand-mile distance thing goin on. *chuckles*

~~~~~~~~~~

My Mother thinks I need to develope some "real" friends. That I need to have interaction on a face to face basis. *sighs quietly* I know she's right, but I just DON'T want to deal with the hurts and pains of the "real world". I like to think that with having friends online, I won't get hurt as badly.

*rolls her eyes* Yeah, I do live in my own fantasy realm. Hell, here on Jennifer-land, the sky IS purple. And Barney is hung from a tall, strong tree daily. *smiles sweetly... with teeth*

Regardless... I have met some of the most tender and loving people in the entire world. And I've met them online. I feel so very privilaged and blessed.

But, my social skills are almost completely atrophied.

As I've stated a few times, recently, when I go out in public, I'm almost always sitting alone and writing. When I go to "my" bars, I'm usually sitting in a corner with my notebooks.

It's great for writing. Bad for socialization.

There's the final karaoke contest coming up this weekend. I'm going to go to the bar, and sit with the two other judges. I'll smile, but I won't be talking with them. *smiles* I just won't. I'll be writing in my notebook until it's time to judge. Until it's time to listen to the singers. And then, I'll go back to writing. I'll drink my Pepsi and Grenadine (a Roy Rodgers to those of you who know "bar lingo") or my Golden Sunrise... a drink I created, thank you very much... But I won't be sociable.

I can't decide if I don't like people, or if I'm just so fucking nervous and terrified about what they're going to think of me, that I have forced myself to not care about them... *shrugs* Personally, when I look analytically at my life, I think it's the latter.

However... Mom thinks I should have a job by my birthday. So that I have some socialization. And yeah, I know it's time. I know it's like, 8 years beyond time.... but, Hell, I was a ten month baby... we've already covered that one.

I wonder what it is that keeps me from getting a job. It's not the availability, which has been my excuse. Hell, my sis got a job, her sis got a job, neither of which require a whole lot of physical movement...

Is it just the fact that I don't WANT to be out there? Out in the open, defenseless? Is it that I can't hide behind the guise of Tiger? Tiger's protected me for three years.

Or rather, that's the image I've shown. *laughs softly* Correction... that's the image I've allowed myself to see. I'm sure everyone who knows me... absolutely EVERYONE, knows what a whimp and scaredy cat I really am.

*laughs quietly* I'm sure of it.

So, I have two weeks to attain employment. That's a good goal. It scares me like a fricken brick wall slamming down over my stick-figure form... but I can't hide for the rest of my life.

And, lets be honest here... who the hell is going to choose to marry some fat chick who's scared to leave her room? Especially one who has a self-esteem about the size of a pea... or is that pee? *shakes her head*

Okay, the level of humor has just dropped so radically that even I can not lie to myself about it anymore. I really need to sleep.

Suffice it to say, if you gleen nothing more from this bizarre post...

I'm actively seeking work now. And I will have employment by the time my B-day rolls around. Almost 12 days from now.

This is a step I don't want to take... but I really WANT to get to the NEXT step, so this one has to come first.

Damned reality!!!