graceland's Diaryland Diary

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One isn't the lonelinest number

What I had planned as a relaxing day of solitude didn't work out that way. What I had planned as a weekend of solitude didn't work out much that way either.

I'm not sure what it is about me but I just can't seem to find time alone. My roommate's out of town on vacation for four days and I thought I could hole up in this apt.

Friday night, after my breakdown, I went out and got drunk. I left before last call, so I think that's good.

I woke up with a nasty hangover on Saturday. People started calling, I had promised to run some books over to a neighbors for a trade, so after they called, I dressed and ran over there. I ended up walking around Upper Manhattan for several hours trying to find a dealer for an appliance I needed. I walked through some bizarre hip hop rally...everything was bizarre on Saturday.

Picked up a late lunch and went home. The rest of the day and into the night was spent blessedly alone. ALONE. I am never, ever, ever, ever, alone. It's an amazing thing. Even when I get this apt. to myself, the phones ring and ring and ring. They rang yesterday, but not much, surprisingly. And I didn't pick it up once. Several drunk dials came in and drunk text messages on my cell. I felt a little badly because a friend was in town from Chicago and I didn't pick up, but I couldn't. I just couldn't do it. I watched some movies, drank some wine and finished my book.

I woke up early Sunday morning (9am) and grabbed the stack of magazines that have been piled in my room, my knitting and settled downstairs to read. I had a day planned out in my head: to read, to knit, to clean and then to cook.

The doorbell rang around 10:30am, it was the super wanting to examine something. Ten minutes later a friend called, she was just arriving home from the night before. She left a message and then she called back and left another message. And then another message. And then she called my cell phone. Twice.

I laid down and took a nap, then I cleaned my room and some of the downstairs. I went to the grocery store and then came back and started to cook. The phones started ringing. A neighbor who moved asked if I could store their couch until they sell it. Sure.

A short while later, three guys and one of their GF's carry the couch in. They've been drinking all afternoon watching basketball. I offer them a beer; they see that I've been cooking. Three hours later they are still here and I am serving everyone dinner.

I read everyone's tarot cards. We watched Classic Rock videos. One of the guys asked me if he can move into my spare room. I told him I'd think about it. I'm not going to think about it. He's very needy. He's a talker. More than a talker, a pensive think outloud kinda person. He doesn't do well alone. I can't do that. I'm a solitary creature, for as many friends that I have all over the place, the truth is that I'm not really a talker outside of social settings and I like my privacy. I like my secrets and my thoughts on reserve and I don't like to open up to people. I guess that's why keeping a journal is so critical to my well-being, if I don't write it here, then it's inside my mind. Thanks to my journal, at least some of what's going on in my head I can store somewhere else. As for the rest, I guess I'm stuck with it. I'm not a communicator.

This guy is super nice but he's one of those people who feels like he has to be "on" all of the time. Like he has to be the life of the party, that he has to make everyone feel good.

Case in point, he gave me these speakers a few months ago and he was showing tonight how if you hold them close to the TV, they discolor the screen. True enough, a portion of the screen turned green and then we couldn't fix it.

I didn't really care, the TV is old and I figured it would go away when I turned it off for the evening, but he made a bigger deal out of it, telling me that he would buy me a new TV.

I told him that was crazy. I don't need a new TV, but he wouldn't hear of it. He told me that this guy who is staying with him has two extra 32" TV's that I could have. I kept telling him that I didn't need those TV's but he wouldn't hear it so he left my apt. and a few minutes later called us and told us all to come over to his place and I should pick out my TV.

So we all bundle up and head over there and again, I tell him that my TV is perfectly fine and he won't hear it, I should just pick the one I want. Finally, I just gave in and pointed to one and he picked it up and he carried it back to my apt. I had him put in the spare room.

I asked him if he could look at my DVD player that I bought last May and haven't been able to hook up. It's just a cheap basic DVD player but it's brand new, never been played. He told me that he's giving me a new DVD player. He has one in his closet he doesn't use and is going to bring over.

And this how my afternoon/evening played out. My phones were ringing, one and then the other, and all of these people were over and I just couldn't keep up.

I kicked everyone out at 9PM. It was too much. I should call back some of those people that called, but I really don't feel like it. I'm going to leave it 'til tomorrow.

It's funny how you can have so many people in your life and not feel connected to any of them.

I miss having someone to talk to who knows when I want to talk and when I want to sit in silence or talk about something trival rather than what's on my mind. I miss having someone to watch hockey with. I miss the Eagles.

I'm not the kind of person who needs to be with people for the sake of not being alone. I'd take being alone any day over being with a room of people I don't connect with.

I guess that's why my best friend calls me the female James Dean.

10:12 p.m. - 2004-03-14

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