IX: In this dust that was a city

Ah, Nena, you sultry pit-hair-having German siren of the 1980's.

You know that Dane Cook routine about the "nothing fight?" I think it's on his second album, "Retaliation." I had a pretty nasty such fight last night, but with my brother. the truth of it is, it's not uncommon for trivial things to be exploded beyond proporion between us. Living couped up as we do there exists always a certain amount of tension. I'm not blameless, but he himself is frequently festering over such matters.

The matter in question was as to who should call the Cable company to get a new service added. I had been sitting on the computer, head plugged to earphones (as usual) whilst Eric and Brandon had the discussion, of which I was only mildly aware. Suddenly I'm asked to call, to which I (perhaps unintentionally brusquely,) replied "No," figuring that although I'd be the recipient of the new service as well, there was no need for them to drag me into the matter of procuring it. I was wrong. Eric asked again, and again I declined. Eric took exception of this. A fight was had. Things were had, and a bit of a cathartic speech was made on hos ridiculous our fights were becoming. Such a dicussion is had once or twice a year when it is becoming apparent that the things about which we are fighting have become altogether ridiculous. The phone was the straw what broke the camel's back. My blood's boiling just thinking about it, really.

I figure I might as well go on record with these tohughts now, instead of letting them float in my head, grow, and die, only to be later resurrected. He's got some hang-ups, and the phone snagged one or two of them. Me, I didn't care for how childish it was for him not to accept that I wouldn't do it at that moment. and he also dropped in the "anxiety" card which is bull shit. Two words for emphasis: bull. Shit. I don't like the phone either, but I don't personally believe you can allow what the shrinks say is wrong with you to rule your life. You can't grow that way. Not healthy. I don't like to eat in public with people, but I do when it's called for, because it's unhealthy not to. I don't care for people using these motly-intangible disabilities as crutches at their discretion, y'know? Our society has become overly reliant on dealing with these problems. Some people have real problems - OCDs, for example, or agoraphobes. My brothers are neither. It's an annoyance.

As a footnote -- and it's funny that this is a mere footnote to that entire diatribe -- I agreed at the end of our nothing fight that I'd call today, because I'm a decent enough guy and I don't mind helping. But a little respect, eh? I often get a feeling of unappreciation. That's one of my hangups.

But that was a lengthy and rather vitriolic rant. There's just not much else to talk about lately. Still out on the job hunt - put my resume in someplace today, more on that if anything happens. Last night was Risk, an incredibly long game running from 11 until about 3, with the outcome, as I called it, 2/3 Chris Ferguson and 1/3 Chrisbrown in the victory. I think the institution of fraction in deciding victories is a wise one, since the game is rarely left with only one player. At least, when we play.

I came in and crashed on the couch.

I feel good about today. I accomplished a few things, I've got stuff on the go. I oughtta take advantage and do a little creation. There's much to work on.

Think I've turned a corner, knock wood.

Hope you find your way.

Keep on rockin'
-Scotto