Chaos

When I first started A Darker Side..., it was really meant to be my open forum bitch session. What I've found is that I head toward this blog more when the chips seem down than when I have a rant with a Muni experience or a loud-mouthed politician.

I could sit here right now and tell you and America at large that I knew YEARS AGO that China was on the verge of taking over the world, that there is a precise formula for world-power-ness for which China has held 2 out of the 3 factors required for at least a decade, that the American government has indeed, in this scenario, taken the slow boat to you know where ha ha ha.

But instead I am here because I feel impending doom. My new apartment situation seems doomed, my current relationship seems doomed, and my career seems doomed. That's a whole lot of doom. And I blame it on The Pill.

This new Pill I am on has made me a horny, emotional wreck. I don't know if these are better or worse side effects than the standard "gain weight, big boobs, mood swings." The point is, I get worked up about everything. I rarely used to cry and now I feel on the verge at least once a week. Such a girl.

I feel alone and down this week, too. It is easy for me to diagnose that I am in a "mini-depressive state" because my face literally feels heavy, so heavy I don't even want to carry it around with me. I think at the core I am worried about leaving the familiarity of my neighborhood, and the unknowns in the work department are not so comforting right now either.

Fuck. I need to get centered. I need to relax. I need to breathe. Sounds like it's time for some yoga.

I Thought...

I thought I looked cute today. That is, at least, until I was handed my fresh-off-the-press passport photos. I paid $14 to look like this for the next 10 years?! In fact, I think the photographer was even giving me a re-shoot chance and I didn't realize it. He said "I think you were smiling a little too much??" Ah yes, that would explain why I look like an Asian vampire with a double chin.

A picture may be worth a thousand words, but this photo left me speechless. Fuck. Should I re-take them when I haven't consumed beers and only had 5 hours of sleep?

The Difficulty of Dark

Can I tell you something, my friend?

It is hard being dark. It doesn't happen to me all the time, which is why my posts are so infrequent.

But you know, it's tiring, the darker side of things. I'm tired of being enraged by idiots. I'm tired of pretty girls who think that being pretty is a good enough excuse to allow them to pretend to be unaware that they are cutting a line or walking in the middle of the street (OK, I admit: I used the unaware/break a bar line thing tonight - I admit! And it worked!), I'm tired of moms thinking it's ok to block the entire movement of the public because of the priority of the item in the stroller, tired of people not understanding that EXITING public transport supercedes ENTERING it, tired of honking my horn to indicate that everyone else in San Francisco is making illegal turns and stops and whatnot. My friend, I am simply tired of being angry.

I love being happy. As my closest friend, you know that, and you also know that I am a bit twisted. So I really really hope the infamous Governer of California gets fucked bigtime on the Special Election shit. That will make me very very happy. Yeah!