Ants and Love: Two Topics That I Hope Will Never, EVER, Be Related

2002-07-16 || 10:52 a.m.

It's been raining almost non-stop for over a week now. No complaints there. I love the rain, and am happiest during a lightning storm with rain coming down in sheets. I am such a hydrophile. The only way I would really think about living someplace where it rains less than it does here is if there were a body of water (ocean, lake, etc.) nearby. "What does this have to do with anything?" you ask. You really wanna know?

Ants.

The only insects that I neither fear nor like. Some insects I don't mind. Most I hate, and most of those I have a paralyzing fear of. Where that came from, I'm not sure. But I'm not afraid of ants. They're kind of cool, really. As long as they're not in my bedroom.

I know, I know, you fail to see the connection. So I'll give it to those of you who've never lived through a summer in swampy Southeast Texas. The rain has flooded the ant megatropoles around here, and so they went to higher ground. My bed, for instance. I now need for my room one of those air pressure baths like they had in the giant beehives of the X-Files movie so that I can leave my room without spreading them to the rest of the house.

I'm only happy when it rains...

In other news, I have decided that since love wants nothing to do with me, I will stop calling. I will ignore that aspect of life entirely. I just got too desperate. (Now that I've said that, I'm sitting here listening to a remix of Für Elise where there is a female voice saying "I just can't get enough of your love. Your love. Your love.")

It also seems like after the whole affair with Suzaku, the love interest formerly known as Q, the love lives of all my friends are swirling down the porcelain (except one, who claims to hate women, but sure spends a lot of time with them). Perhaps it's radiation. My lack of success radiated on to them. I noticed that the (male) friends I've not talked to in a while all have girlfriends now. Oh well.

Pour your misery down, pour your misery down, pour your misery down to me...

But I'm not feeling sorry for myself. Love will change her mind and come crawling back to my doorstep when she's darn good and ready. I just hope I know how to respond when she does.

I don't care, I have no love, I don't miss it all that much...

I'm too busy to feel sorry for myself anyway. I'm trying to learn how to manage time efficently, so that I can do more things in a given period of time, but am not succeding at the moment, because I'm not doing homework, I'm typing to you.

Okay, why do all of my songs with words involve love?! Listen:

"I hate myself for loving you; can't break away from the things that you do. I wanna walk, but I run back to you. I hate myself for loving you." Joan Jett and the Blackhearts. Cool points to anyone who can figure out what the name of the song is. And no, it's not country music.

I could go on for hours with this. But I won't. But it does show that it's gonna be harder to ignore love than I thought. Oh well. Two can play this game, toots.