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Saturday, Nov. 23, 2002 / 9:49 p.m. ~No, I'm Not the Total Idiot You Think I Am - About Kukla~ Gleaning from a couple responses I've gotten to my most recent diatribe the idea that I'm a total idiot. That people think I'm going to freak out and write a letter and print it on poster board and hang it in the department, or I'm going in with an Uzi, and that will surely ruin my chances of getting hired elsewhere. People! You read this crap, you think you know me, do you really think I am that fucking stupid? Jesus Christ. Yeah, him again. This is an outlet for me. I'm saying things here I don't say elsewhere. And vice versa. Get a grip. And I love the one person who gets drunk on Saturday nights and tries to piss me off in creepy little ways. Guess what? I really no longer care. Sometimes the people I encounter here, on the Interweb, are worse than the people in my 'real' life. People are people, and I am a misanthrope. Really, I'll be nice to you, I'll try anyway, but I don't like people. Animals? Definitely. Sometimes children and the elderly, but they're people, and well, we know how people can be. I was re-reading my entry from earlier today, thinking about Kukla again, how she plans things for the department to do outside of work, how everyone jumps when she says jump. It occurs to me that perhaps others are really scared of her, or intimidated by her bullying attitude. And maybe she hates that I am not. She was either really tortured as a kid, or spoiled. I mentioned she only has one eye, right? Maybe she was teased a lot? She married a man who abused her, took a lot of drugs, they lived in a trailer in Louisiana. She moved here to live with her sister after she left her husband without looking back. Apparently she left with only the clothes on her back. She doesn't pay rent, she lives for free, with her sister's family, she works for her sister, her sister is our Manager (M). She will never lose her job, not by being terminated. She has job security, home security. She goes to dinner and clubs alone, she meets men, gets them to buy her drinks, food. She is currently 'dating' an older man who has a house far from where she lives. I think she spends nights there. He doesn't like to go out, doesn't like to be around people. He's in the Military, is decorated, an officer or something. He buys her things, clothes, etc. She spends her days at work talking to her friends on the phone, talking, laughing, occasionally taking work related calls. She is always planning events, evenings out, with anyone who will go. She likes to travel, go on cruises, she saves her money, she earns more than anyone in our department, even D., the Supervisor, she takes her money and spends it at chain restaurants, on mixed drinks. Fruity, multi-alcohol concoctions. She drinks them regularly. $9 drinks, Margaritas, frou frou Martinis. Cheap wines. She drinks most nights. She wears tight fitting dresses, pants, her hair is worn a different way every day. Aside from her prosthetic eye with the visible stitches scars on the lid she is lovely. She has a beautiful smile. She used to be quite funny, she would dance in her cubicle on Fridays, wearing her jeans overalls. She used to be nice, I can remember if I try. She takes walks around the office complex, every break, every lunch, religiously, and she drinks water from a large mug, something the size of a half gallon or so. She refills it throughout the day. She eats heartily, but she's had colon problems, she has a poor diet, but she loves to eat. Now she has eye problems, with the one good eye, the one and only eye. I think she's deeply troubled and unsatisfied. As are many of us, myself included. But it manifests in attacking people, lashing out angrily, trying to rule over everyone around her, to command attention, to gain control of any given situation. I don't fit into her situation. When I break it all down I see through her. I see how upset she was after our fight. I heard her on the phone with her friends, still, but she made it a point to talk softly. She stopped looking at me, at all, she purposely avoided me. This, despite her saying she still has no problem with me, in spite of it all. Earlier, she popped into my head, I was feeding the cats and I resented her, suddenly. She never has to worry about losing her job. We all know it. People do what she says, most likely fearing repercussions from her sister, our Manager (M). I'm sure she knows this. And she uses it. I've never witnessed anything quite like it. I never intended to sit here and write all of this now, but it came out anyway. I've added songs to my Playlist: "Shady Grove", by Doc Watson, "Bouge De La", by Claude MC Solaar, "Cool Like Dat", by Digable Planets (and it has another name actually, but I can't access that now), "Left of Centre", by Sloan (hey, Caroline, SLOAN!), and I'm listening to them on Winamp instead of KaZaA, because they sound better for some reason. Kukla. What a piece of work. This reminds me of every relationship I've ever had with a female. I told Mark on the phone yesterday or the day before, I just don't like women. We don't get along. But as I said, I don't like anyone. I try, but don't get too close because it won't work out. Trust me. I'm supposed to go meet a fellow journal writer tomorrow. From LiveJournal. Someone in town for the weekend. If all goes well, well, it could be okay. We talked on the phone and, I'd better say nothing more. Cost of the War in Iraq
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