Alpaca In My Pants

The conversation posted in the comments section by A. Cow is quite good, and captures the absurdity that many of us Lefties have to face; splits, caucuses, tendencies. The only difference between the SPUSA and the SP of America is that Eric Chester, an unholy pain in the ass, isn't in the latter one. I'm backing away, as are a couple of my comrades. I'm a radical socialist without a home at this point, and I'll have to try to find one in the Democratic Party. Good luck.

Yesterday I had an appointment with my psychiatrist, and it went unusually well. He's cute with his matching tie and socks. My therapist wasn't there, so I was more inclined to open up and speak frankly. When we got to talking about my diagnosis I learned a few very interesting things. Interesting to me, anyway. He said that I have a, "highly unusual and complex psychiatric profile." Ok, I can live with that, I guess. He went on to say that I move between borderline paranoid schizophrenia, clinical depression, and severe anxiety and social phobia. This, he says, leaves me with, "raw nerves." He also said something about how I have some of the worst social anxiety of anyone he knows. That wouldn't be bad if he worked at a Popeye's Chicken, but he's the Chief Psychiatrist of the center to which I go. I didn't take it as a compliment, but I suppose that anything worth doing is worth doing well. I'm doing crazy well, apparently.

Tomorrow Clare will be pulling into town sometime in the afternoon. We're going to do lunch, I'm not sure where yet. It will be good to see her, as it's been awhile since we had a chance to talk. I'm going to try like hell to convince her that I'm doing well. Sort of gloss over the job thing and the crazy thing. But she knows me well and has seen all of my insanity. I'm looking forward to telling her about the nudist colony, something she wouldn't do if her very life were dependent upon it.

Sentimentality is in my nature, and it's likely that I'll cry when she leaves, but it won't be because I miss her, although I do, of course. It's more about the way life just moves along...I go one way, other people go their way. And none of it is what I thought it would be. Clare has been in my life for eight years, so I'm certain that an romantic and somewhat maudlin reflection on the past will take place.

The Dow Jones Industrial Average fell 249.97 points today, so that makes me happy. I despise corporate capitalism on every level. It would be nice if Bush and Cheney both had a heart attack and died within seconds of each other...that would please me, as well. I don't want them to suffer, though. Well, maybe a little bit. I mentioned that wish somewhere online last night and a Bushie threatened me. "It's illegal to threaten the president! I'm calling the FBI" is what this thing told me. But I'm not threatening anyone, I'm just wishing for his death. I'm not about to hurt anyone...I don't even like smushing spiders. Even the ones that are just asking for it.